


The Events Leading To John Leaving

by Kunoichirin



Series: John Allerdyce/Bobby Drake Drabbles [2]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28015404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kunoichirin/pseuds/Kunoichirin
Summary: The universe seemed to be telling John something. The only thing keeping him there was Bobby. So... what was he supposed to do without him?
Relationships: Bobby Drake/Rogue, John Allerdyce/Bobby Drake
Series: John Allerdyce/Bobby Drake Drabbles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018363
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	1. Scars of The Past

**Author's Note:**

> Here's where things get super angsty and miserable because of my severe undiagnosed depression and strange imagination. But I like to add a lot of drama, so... here you go.

_From the moment he was born, his parents hated him. Why did he exist? Why did he have to ruin their perfect family? Was he a punishment for their sins? Did they have to keep him?_

_They couldn't kill their own child, despite the thought crossing their minds several times. God would never forgive them for that. They couldn't put him up for adoption and curse someone else with their burden._

_They would have to raise him. But they would raise him with discipline. They'd raise him to know exactly what he was. He was a curse. A good-for-nothing, miserable little monster who didn't deserve even the littlest bit of kindness they showed him._

_He would never be the angel his perfect sister was. Her name was Mary, after the mother of Jesus Christ. It meant 'wished for child', or 'rebelliousness'. For she would make a beautiful difference in this world._

_While he was named John, which meant 'God is gracious'. As in, he was lucky to be born. Religion was very important in his parents' eyes, so they believed they were doing the right thing, the way they treated him._

_His sister didn't make living any more fulfilling. She would break things just to get him in trouble. She would lie, and she would taunt him, knowing that if he so much as talked back to her, he would be beaten._

_The first five years of his life were torture. While he had learned to speak, he would remain mute, never saying a word. They were overjoyed when they could finally send him to school. It meant they could get him out of their hair._

_It was, unfortunately, a religious school. Put getting smacked with rulers didn't bother him in the least. He was used to things like that. He never cried, never complained, simply stayed silent and obeyed without question._

_When he was six, he already had over twenty-five scars that he counted. Each day, he would go to school bruised and miserable. He always had heavy bags under his eyes._

_Somehow, he believed this was his parents preparing him for the future. He felt worthless. But he worked hard nonetheless. He thought that maybe, if he got good grades, they would love him._

_But no matter what he did, they only paid attention to his sister. His horrible, terrible sister who he hated with his entire being. But she wasn't the curse. He was. He was everything wrong with this family. So he couldn't blame them for hating him, right?_

_He deserved every little bit of pain he received. Only six years old, and he accepted that he would never be happy. Staring at the ceiling, he couldn't sleep. His body still ached from overworking himself that day, and his back stung from the whipping he'd been subjected to._

_All he'd done was slip up and call his mother 'mom'. His parents had told him to only address them as 'sir' and 'ma'am'. He'd meant to say ma'am, but it came out as mom. And she became furious._

_He had to take care of himself and patch himself up. They let him do that because he'd be no use to them if he bled out and died. Finally getting sick of laying there without any sleep, he got out of bed and headed silently down the stairs._

_It was a freezing night, and with only a thin sheet on his bare mattress, he too, was freezing. He went to tend to the fire in the fire place, since it was dying out. Matches were his only quiet option._

_Lighting it against the box, he tossed it onto the dying embers, adding two logs and a few twigs. Tending to the fire with his hands, he accidentally touched the fire when trying to move a log._

_Jerking his hand back, the fire jerked with it, blazing to life. John hesitated. It had only felt warm, and didn't burn him. Checking his hand, it was a little dirty from touching the coal, but no signs of burns._

_Staring at the fire in amazement, he held out his hand to it. A fireball separated itself from the rest of the blaze and formed in his hand. He thought back to a verse in the bible that he'd been taught in school._

_“If your hand or your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it from you; it is better for you to enter life crippled or lame, than to have two hands or two feet and be cast into the eternal fire."_

_He stared at his hand in bewilderment. The fire danced in his hand, taunting him. The flames of hell. Tears poked out of the corners of his eyes. He really was the devil. Perhaps he was a reincarnation of a demon, paying for his sins in a previous life._

_He was being tested. He clenched his hand into a fist, putting out the fireball. Staring in terror at his hand, he stood and walked to the kitchen. He pulled open the knife drawer, and stared at all those different sized knives._

_His hands were shaking as he picked up a serrated knife, thin and sharp. Pressing the blade against his wrist, his hand was shaking too much to keep steady. Trying to focus, he pressed it harder, shut his eyes tightly, and sliced quickly, like ripping off a band-aid._

_Risking opening an eye, he stared at what he'd done. His blood trickled down his wrist, slowly starting to cover his entire wrist with the red stain. Dropping the knife on the counter, he rushed to the trash can, puking into it._

_His stomach twisted painfully, forcing an encore. His legs were shaking, shoulders trembling, but not from the cold anymore. Looking back over at the knife sitting on the corner, his blood on the blade, he couldn't bring himself to do it again._

_So much for cutting it off and throwing it away. Just the thought made his head spin. He wasn't strong enough. His tears streamed down his cheeks, though he himself remained ever silent._

_That memory would haunt him for many nights to come, a taunting voice telling him to finish the job. But he couldn't even look at a knife without feeling sick for a long time._

_He was now eight years old. The amount of scars he had had increased to about 37. And not all of them were from his parents and sister. He was exhausted. He hadn't been able to sleep in days._

_Almost a week had passed since he was last asleep. School had gotten worse, since he couldn't concentrate. His grades had plummeted due to his lack of focus. But he could hardly make time to care._

_There were a couple of candles in the classroom. He watched the fire dance on the wicks, melting the wax away. He wished he could just melt away. Fire didn't effect him normally anyway._

_As he stared at them, his vision kept going in and out of focus. It suddenly seemed very foggy in that classroom._

_Pain stung his hand, and he jumped. Ah. The teacher noticed his distraction and used the ruler. When he jerked his hand away on instinct, the fire from the candle shot to her nun clothes, setting the black cloth ablaze._

_She screamed, a sound that made his ears begin to ring. There were black spots appearing in his vision, and before he knew it, he was on the ground. He could hear muffled screaming and shouting, along with people running around in a panic._

_All he could smell was smoke as everything around him appeared to catch on fire. His eyelids felt like they had boulders on them, so they shut for a while._

_When he opened his eyes again, he was in a white room. He felt_ _rejuvenated, the best he'd felt in a while. Like he had all the energy in the world. There was medical equipment surrounding him, and a needle in the forearm._

_That scared him. Where was he? He saw doctors through the window in the door speaking with his parents. They looked calm, but he could see how infuriated they were in their eyes._

_What did he do? He couldn't remember what had happened, besides a lot of smoke and fire. Had he set the classroom on fire? He set his teacher on fire, he remembered._

_His parents were going to kill him. People would want him dead after what he did. He could somehow control fire. That much was certain. He knew he had to get out of there. He needed to run._

_Somewhere, anywhere, he just needed to get out of there. Ripping the needle out of his arm, his eyes landed on the window. Forcing it open with his shoulder, he wasted no time leaping out the window, not even checking how far down he would fall._

_It turned out he was on the fourth floor, above a few trees. He braced himself, painfully smashing through several branches before he crashed into the ground. Though he had opened several new cuts, and badly scraped his knee, he limped as fast as he could away from the hospital._

_He climbed the chain-link fence surrounding the parking lot, and crossed over into the backyard garden of some kind of restaurant. There was a small fountain in the garden, which he immediately limped over to._

_Washing his cuts and scrapes, though it stung, he felt better knowing he could stop worrying about infection. Taking a rest, he tried thinking what he was going to do now._

_He hadn't made a single decision for himself in his entire life. But so long as they never found him, he could be... what was that word again? Oh, that's right._

_Free._

_The corners of his mouth did something weird. They went up, and he felt a kind of release, like a weight off his shoulders. He was doing that thing his parents did when his sister did literally anything._

_He was... smiling. Was this what it was like to be happy?_

_First thing's first. He needed to hightail it outta there. He couldn't stay anywhere remotely close to where his parents were. He was never going back to that wretched place ever again._

_His couple of years on the streets were hardly any better than the ones he'd spent with his parents. He was always on the run, whether it be from angry store owners, or vengeful gang members._

_He made a life for himself, just stealing from people. It was an amazing feeling; breaking the rules. He spent the years alone, but he didn't really mind. He'd learned how easy it was to piss off other people._

_Actually, he learned a lot living on the streets in New York City. He learned different tactics for how to steal undetected, he learned how to fight off foxes and stray dogs, he learned the best ways to escape a bad situation._

_He couldn't even count how many times he had to run for his life. He'd pissed off so many people, he earned the nickname 'Red Squirrel', as a reference to how annoying he was to these people, and also his over sized red sweatshirt._

_It would probably fit him later._

_He never got caught except once. By the police. They found out his name, and were going to send him back home. The moment he heard that, he freaked out. The electricity from the lights above head exploded into flames, and in his panic, he set the entire police station on fire on his way out._

_Only ten years old, and he was wanted for arson. What the actual-_

_A few months later, after all those incidents where he'd pissed off a mafia boss and ended up watching a lot of death and destruction happen. He needed some place to lay low for a while, where he wouldn't be found._

_He was passing by a man with red sunglasses, and noticed something shiny in his pockets. Subtly slipping his hand into his pocket, he hooked a ring with his finger and pulled it out._

_"Shit." He muttered under his breath when they jingled loudly. Keys. His worst enemy. They got him caught too often. The man spun around, catching him by the back of his shirt when he tried to run._

_"Just what do you think you're doing?" He questioned, holding up like one would hold a cat by its scruff. He snatched back his keys, then noticed how scrawny he looked. "Where are your parents?"_

_To that, John kicked him hard in the crotch, making him drop him and keel over. He'd kicked him with a pair of steel-toed boots he'd stolen, specifically for situations like that one._

_Just to spite the man, he snatched back his keys and booked it. "Hey!" The man cried after him, immediately chasing after him. John realized looked for some way up to escape, and spotted a stack of boxes that he could jump off of onto a nearby roof._

_They looked like they were taped shut, so they must've been full of something, and were therefore sturdy. Leaping onto them, his foot went right through the cardboard. He and the boxes crashed to the ground._

_"Are you kidding me? They were empty?!" John exclaimed in frustration. "Who the hell stacks and tapes shut empty cardboard boxes in an alleyway?!"_

_"Don't know, but I should thank them." The man chuckled, catching John's ankle when he tried to scramble away. "Keys. Now. What are you even going to do with them? You don't know where I parked my car. And you look much too young to drive."_

_"I don't have to explain myself to you." John snarled, pulling out his lighter. He flicked open the cap and shot a blast of fire at the man. He fell back in surprise, barely dodging the blast._

_A beam shot the lighter out of his hand, and the man stepped on it, blocking it from John's reach. "You're a mutant." He observed._

_"A what?"_

_"A mutant. Someone born with the X-gene, which gives them some kind of odd mutation. You're ability to control fire is a mutation." The man explained to him. "What did you think it was?"_

_John didn't want to answer that question. All this time, he thought he was some kind of demon, and in reality, there were tons of people out there like him? This was yet another reason he liked science over religion._

_"How did you end up on the streets? You're just a kid." The man frowned._

_"There are plenty of kids on the streets." John pointed out. "Never met any, but I'm sure there are."_

_"Yeah, no." The man shook his head. "Come with me."_

_"What? No." John squinted at him like he was stupid or something._

_"Alright then." The man picked up the lighter under his foot. "I'll just take this with me then."_

_"Hey!" John glared at him._

_"What? Don't like getting stolen from? You still didn't return my keys." The man replied. "Come on. You don't want to stay on the streets. Especially not on a rainy day like this."_

_John continued to glare at him._

_"I know a safe place for you where you'll be cared for, and not discriminated against." The man offered. "It's up to you." He began to walk away. John kicked the box off his foot and ran after him._

_"You can have your keys back. Just give me my lighter." John demanded._

_The man took his keys back and stopped at a nearby car, unlocking the doors. "You can get in."_

_John did, thought as far as he knew, this was all a trick. But he had to admit, he was curious._

_The next seven-eight years of his life were filled with almost nothing but happiness. Just him and Bobby. John had never smiled so much in his entire life. They did everything together._

_It was another regular day. They had class, so like usual, they attended, listen to Storm's lecture. They took notes and followed along as she talked on and on and on and on forever._

_Until he was called to Professor X's office. Weird. He hadn't done anything this time. When he walked into the office, he froze._

_Standing there, next to Professor X's desk, were his parents and sister. They were smiling, but he could see the murderous intent in their eyes. "H-how did you.... find me?" He breathed._

_Professor X smiled happily. "I don't know, but they appeared at the doorstep and said they'd come to take you home." He said._

_"But- you don't- you're joking, right?" John warily looked at the three people he hated most in the world._

_"He's not joking. You're coming home with us." His mother told him. "Now."_

_"No... no, no, no, you can't just come out of nowhere, and expect me to go back with you!" John shouted at them. "Not after everything-"_

_"It's for the best that you go." He spun around to see Scott standing there, his arms crossed. "You've caused nothing but trouble since you first came here. It's time to send you on your way."_

_And suddenly Bobby was there too. "Finally! It's about time we got rid of you. Seven long years of faking friendship is finally over. See you never, John."_

_"Wait, but-"_

_Everything swirled into darkness and he was alone. Voices echoed around him, calling him worthless, a coward, a monster. He felt like he was in a cage, right back where he started. Trapped._

_Trapped in misery. He was beginning to hyperventilate, but his lungs stung, a suffocating gas being sucked into them. He screamed for help before he felt searing pain overtake his senses._

~

"NGYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!"

The blood-curdling scream pierced the air, snapping Bobby awake. He had no idea where it'd come from, but his gut instinct told him something was very, very wrong. Launching himself out of bed, he shoved open the door to a nearly completely dark hallway.

He noticed a bright blue glow coming from under one of the doors, and he smelled smoke. That was John's room. Panic and protectiveness overcame his senses, and he bolted to the door, trying to open it.

The door wouldn't budge. Turning himself to ice as fast as he could manage, he broke down the door with his shoulder and was immediately met with a heat wave. It was hotter than any temperature he'd felt before. 

Trying to see through the blue-grey smoke, he realized that the fire itself was, in fact, blue. That was new. He pinpointed where John was by the sounds of terrified muttering.

He tried to ice the fire, but it melted his ice too quickly. Plus, he couldn't risk hurting John. Running into the room, he hurried to John's bedside, where he found him curled into a trembling ball, his hands clamped over his ears, pupils dilated, tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn't hear his muttering over the crackling of the flames.

Curling his arms around John protectively he lifted him off the bed with ease, hurrying to get him out of the room so he could really blast it with his ice. He went to put him down and go back in, but John suddenly grabbed his shoulders, gripping them tightly.

The complete and utter fear in John's eyes was horrible. Bobby didn't leave his side, and instead pulled him into a tight and protective hug. He could finally hear his fearful muttering.

"Please don't let them take me. I don't want to go. Please." Bobby felt his heart sink. "Don't leave me. I'm sorry, I am. Just don't leave me." His voice was shaking, a croaky whisper.

"Shh, shh... you're okay now, I've got you." Bobby cooed in his ear, gently stroking his back. What on earth could've scared _John_ so badly? He wasn't afraid of anything! "Everything's going to be okay."

By this point, other students had come to see what was happening. The smoke had set off the fire alarms, so the older kids were trying to comfort the younger kids at the same time as trying to figure out what was going on.

The professors came hurrying down the hall, ushering the kids to go back to bed. Professor X got to the scene along with Storm and Jean. Scott was turning off the alarm and trying to get the kids back in their rooms.

Jean opened the window in his room with her mind, and Storm used her power to get rain into the room and put out the fires. Jean went into the room and picked John's lighter up off the floor.

"He must've knocked it open while he was having a nightmare, and his emotions made the fire go haywire." Jean explained. "They were very strong emotions. Emotions of... fear. Loneliness. Anger. Even guilt."

"Can you help him?" Bobby looked at Professor X with a pleading look. John had stopped muttering and was instead hyperventilating, still gripping Bobby like if he let go, he would disappear. Bobby was hugging him back, but had no idea how else to comfort him.

"He had a nightmare about his past family." Professor X explained. "It ended with them coming to take him back. He's afraid that no one really cares about him. He's convinced he was a curse."

"John..." Bobby held him tighter. "It was just a dream. I'm right here. I'm not leaving." He shifted his hand to his head so he could stroke his hair, since that typically calmed him down.

His breathing was slowly calming down, and returning to a healthy pace. Bobby could still feel his heart against his own chest beating rapidly, but also slowly calming down. That was a relief.

He was still crying, but the extent of it was small hiccups and quiet sniffles. "That's it... you're okay now." Bobby whispered softly in his ear. John's shoulders relaxed, but he didn't move.

They sat there together on the floor in front of John's room, with Bobby still stroking his head gently. Jean smiled fondly at the two of them before yawning.

"I think Bobby's got this handled now. Let's give the two of them some privacy." She suggested to the others. Storm had already fallen half asleep standing up, and made a low noise of agreement.

"Indeed." Professor X nodded. "It's only two in the morning. You two should go back to sleep as well. Just- don't let him sleep alone tonight, Bobby." Bobby nodded at him as he turned his wheels and left the scene to go back to bed, along with the rest of the professors.

Bobby rested his chin atop John's head, more stroking the back of his neck now. They remained there for a while. Bobby figured John wouldn't want to move for a bit. His breathing had evened out, so that was good.

"Okay, come on. Let's go somewhere that's not the floor." Bobby suggested. John made a small 'mm' of agreement. As Bobby tried to help him stand, John inhaled sharply, and grabbed Bobby's wrist, pulling it away from his side.

He was confused for a second, before realizing he had a hole singed into his shirt, along with a red burn on his side. That shocked him. He thought John was immune to fire. _I guess he's just fire resistant. But even he can't stand such heat._

Careful not to touch his burn, he helped him to his feet. "Come on, let's go take care of that." He offered softly, carefully taking his hand and pulling him to the nearest bathroom, which was also where they had simple medical things, like band-aids and itch cream and such.

Sitting him down on the toilet, he root through the medicine cabinet for some kind of burn ointment. It looked more like a sunburn than anything serious. So at least he wasn't badly injured.

"Alright, I'll need you to take off your shirt for this." John tensed at Bobby's request. "You can borrow one of mine for the night." John still hesitated. "...What's wrong?"

John cleared his throat first, but when he spoke, he'd lost his voice. Bobby couldn't make out what he'd said. John tried again. "...can't."

"What? You can't? Why not?" Bobby frowned. Surely he wasn't shy about it, was he? Bobby almost smiled, but suppressed it.

"...might...eak out." John replied, trying again to clear his throat.

"Might what?" Bobby furrowed his eyebrows.

"You might freak out!" John suddenly shouted, startling the both of them. He cleared his throat. "There we go."

"I might... freak out?" Bobby clarified. "What makes you say that?"

"Well..." John hesitated, then sighed. "You'll see. But please, don't react." John reluctantly began pulling off his shirt. Bobby's jaw dropped when he saw the several scars all scattered about his torso and shoulders. There were even some on his upper arms, and...

"Wrists..." Bobby accidentally thought out loud. John quickly hid his wrists between his legs. "John, I... I don't..."

"I said _don't_ react." John hissed. "Can we just get this over with so I can put a shirt back on?" Bobby was a little too busy staring at his developing muscles to hear him. Surprisingly enough, though they were barely visible, he was developing abs. "Uh, hello? My face is up here."

"OH! Yes, yes, you're right, I'm s-sorry."Bobby stuttered. "I'll just apply this to your burn, and I'll get you a shirt." John rolled his eyes and turned to sit sideways so Bobby could have access to the burn.

He started gently applying the ointment to the burn, and John shivered. "I will never get over how cold you frickin' hands are." Bobby chuckled, and continued to apply the ointment.

He was almost done when he noticed the giant messy scar on his back. He froze, staring at it in bewilderment. It looked like an explosion on his back, the way it had points shooting every which way across his back. Bobby swallowed hard. How had he gotten that scar?

There was another little scar behind his ear leading down his neck that stopped right above his shoulder blade that looked like someone had taken a knife and just traced it down his neck. Bobby shuddered just thinking about the pain he must've gone through getting all these scars.

"Are you done?" John sounded rather annoyed, like he knew what Bobby was distracted by. And he probably did.

"Oh, uh... almost." Bobby replied, continuing to rub it against the burn. He finished, then teasingly prodded him right above his hip. John squeaked, then glared at Bobby, who began putting away the ointment, trying his best to look innocent. "Well, there you go. Now come on, let's get you a shirt."

John picked up his ruined shirt off the floor and followed Bobby out the door. They walked to Bobby's room together, and Bobby closed the door quietly behind them. He then began to root through his dresser drawer and pulled out a long-sleeved shirt, since he knew that was the only type of shirt John ever wore.

And now he knew why. But he couldn't believe he'd never noticed the scar on the back of his neck before. Perhaps that was why John had that hairstyle. Bobby tossed him the shirt, and John quickly put it on. It only now occurred to him that that was the first time he'd ever seen him without a shirt.

_N-not that that matters, it's just surprising since we've known each other for about seven years. It was probably an intentional decision of his._ Bobby thought to himself. John sighed, and sat on the bed, staring at Bobby awkwardly.

"So... should I sleep on the floor, or..."

"What? No." Bobby laughed. "It's fine if we sleep together- uh, that is, sleep in the same bed."

John seemed hesitant, but too tired to argue. The two of them lay back to back under the covers, sharing their warmth and slowly falling asleep. John drifted off surprisingly fast. Nightmares could be exhausting.

Bobby waited until he absolutely, one hundred percent positive that John was asleep before carefully turning around and draping an arm over John. John relaxed against him, subconsciously leaning into him, letting out a content sigh.

Closing his eyes, Bobby couldn't help but smile. He felt right where he belonged.

Right by John's side.


	2. Mystique

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John confronts someone pretending to be Bobby.
> 
> Or
> 
> John meets Mystique.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a couple days later

Last night had been crazy. From what John had heard, Wolverine had accidentally stabbed Rogue, and she nearly killed him with her power to heal herself. How could she almost kill someone like him just by... _touching_ him?

If that was how her power worked, Bobby was constantly in danger around her. Even though he was sure she would never do anything to harm Bobby purposely, that was not a risk John was willing to risk.

No one had seen her at all that morning. And apparently, no one had seen Bobby either. That couldn't be a mere coincidence. Whatever that idiot thought he was doing, he was only going to get hurt.

Which meant John had to find him.

The first place he checked was Bobby's dorm. To no one's surprise, it was empty. So was Rogue's dorm. He checked the balcony on the third floor, the kitchen, living room, each individual classroom (just in case), but found nothing.

Did they leave or something? They just seemed to... disappear. There were only a few other places it would make sense for them to be. It was weird to John that he hadn't found them yet. What were they doing?

Hurrying down the stairs, he ran into Kitty. Literally. She came out of seeming nowhere, and he tripped on the last step, slamming into her. 

"John! I was looking for you!" She grinned at him, not even caring that he'd just knocked her to the ground. He offered her a hand and she jumped to her feet. "Everyone was saying you were looking for Bobby. Is something wrong?"

"Yes, something's wrong! I can't find him anywhere!" He exclaimed. "You know who else people haven't seen? Rogue. Need I say more?"

"Ohh... well then, I can confirm your suspicions." Kitty sighed. "I just saw them both out in the garden. They were on the benches, just... talking. Though Rogue didn't look too happy."

"Yeah, probably because she nearly killed a man." John pointed out, shouldering past her. "Hopefully, Bobby realized the threat she is."

"John, she's not a threat." Kitty narrowed her eyes at him. "You're a real hypocrite. Calling her a threat, even though you're a mutant too. You should understand better than most what it's like to not be able to control your powers."

John hesitated, realizing she was right. "Whatever. I still need to talk with him regardless." He returned to his self-appointed mission, and hurried to the garden. Even if Rogue wasn't a threat, he still didn't like that she was alone with Bobby.

Finding his way out the door and into the garden, he spotted Bobby on the bench. But he was by himself. Rogue was nowhere in sight. And he seemed to be looking around, paranoid.

"Hey, Bobby!" John called to him. Bobby jumped, looking over at him. Was it just the light, or were Bobby's eyes yellow a second ago? It must've just been the light. Stopping next to the bench, he noticed he was sitting strange. Or rather, he was sitting with good posture. "...Where'd Rogue disappear to? Kitty said she was here with you a moment ago."

"Are you looking for her?" Bobby asked, cocking an eyebrow. John squinted at him like he was dumb or something.

"No. When am I _ever_ looking for her?" John scoffed. "Just... wondering if she left. I mean, after what happened last night, I wouldn't be surprised."

Bobby seemed to be figuring out the right response to that. "Yes. She did decide to leave. She believed it would be for the best for all of us."

"Good riddance." John sighed, then paused when Bobby looked at him strangely. "I mean, uh... oh no, she'll certainly be missed." He wasn't buying it. "What? You know I never liked her. You know, you're being oddly quiet. I figured you'd be more upset about her decision."

"Of course I'm upset about her decision!" Bobby protested. "But... you know, maybe it's for the best." John's frown deepened. Even though this was what he wanted, it wasn't like Bobby to give up on a friend like this.

Sitting down next to him, Bobby tensed. "Alright then, _Bobby_." He began, casually resting his arm on Bobby's shoulder. It was strangely warm. "What's my name?"

Bobby(?) froze. "What?"

"What's. My. Name." John repeated. "Do you want me to say it in Spanish? Cuál es mi nombre?"

"I... what?" Bobby seemed confused. "Why are you asking _me_ what your name is? Did you hit your head or something?"

"Well, yes, I fell down the stairs- b-but that's not what's important!" John stuttered, his face going red from embarrassment when Bobby snickered. "Just answer the damn question!"

"This is a dumb game, dude. Just how hard did you hit your head? Maybe we should get you checked out." Bobby suggested.

"That's still not my name. Why are you avoiding the question?" John inquired. "Who are you, and what have you done with Bobby?"

Bobby didn't say anything at first. He looked around and realized there were too many people around to see if he attacked him. "Alright, you got me. But what are you going to do about it? Hm?"

John's eyes narrowed. "If you hurt Bobby, I'll break each of your limbs and then set you on fire. Or vice versa. It depends."

"Well, let me put your worries to rest. I didn't do anything to your precious Bobby." The person informed him. "So you can relax. I'm not here to pick a fight with you. And it sounds like I did you a favor by getting the girl out of here."

"Okay, that part, I guess you did. But why?" John squinted at her. "And who are you? Are you a part of this 'Brotherhood' I keep hearing about?" The pieces then clicked into place. "Oh... you guys were never after Wolverine, were you."

"Wow, you're a lot smarter than you look." The person chuckled. "So you should be smart enough to know that all will be revealed in time. I have one last little task to do here, and then I'll be out of here."

"You know, I should just report you, but I don't really feel compelled to. Other than you do a terrible impression of Bobby." John replied. "Honestly, I can't believe she bought it."

"Well, after the guilt she felt from last night, all she needed was a little push. It's basic psychology." The person shrugged. "What _is_ your name anyway?"

"I asked you first." John pointed out.

The person laughed. "I like you." The person's entire appearance somehow shifted to that of a young woman with blonde hair. She looked about his age. "You can call me Mystique. I don't think you're going to report me, so there's no reason to hide from a friend."

"O...kay..." John was a little shook from watching her entire appearance change. "I'm John."

"Well it's nice to meet you, John." She smiled. "I am on a somewhat time sensitive mission though, so I'll be taking my leave." Her appearance shifted back to Bobby, and she grinned at him. "I hope to meet you again. You seem like you'd be a good ally one day."

He watched her leave, and wondered what the heck just happened. He really should report her, but he also wanted to sit back and watch the fireworks. She'd gotten Rogue out of their hair, so she couldn't be all bad. Perhaps this 'Brotherhood' wasn't so evil as they say.

Unfortunately, if he did become their 'ally' one day, it would make him a traitor. And he couldn't do that to Bobby. But that didn't mean he _had_ to report her. What they didn't know wouldn't kill them.

Yeah, later that day, it turned out Mystique had poisoned the professor somehow. When he heard that, the first thing he said was,

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

Bobby looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean? This is terrible! Rogue is gone, the professor is weakened; what the heck is going on?!"

"Didn't Wolverine go after her or something? I'm sure it'll be fine in the end." John dismissed. "And Jean is the best healer we've got. The professor'll be fine too. Just take a deep breath, and calm the hell down."

Taking his advice, Bobby took a deep breath before speaking again. "You're right. I'm sure that it'll all work out in the end. I just wish I knew what was happening. But the teachers are being super secretive about it."

"Then it's probably for the best we don't know." _I don't want to know what I could've prevented. It might make me feel guilty. It's not like it's my fault, right?_ "The teachers'll figure it out. We just need to stay out of it."

"But what if it's something big? They kept talking about Magneto, and whatever this 'Brotherhood' business is, and I just think that since we're X-men- well, X-men in training- we deserve to know what we're up against." Bobby pointed out.

"They aren't going to have a bunch of barely trained children go out and fight these guys. They're going to do it themselves." John reminded him. "So you don't have anything to worry about, because we're not going up against anything."

"So... we just sit here and wait for them to come back? I don't really like the sound of that." Bobby frowned. "But I guess we don't really get a say in it, do we. We just have to trust that they'll be okay."

"You worry too much." John rolled his eyes. "Come on, you've seen them in action! They can handle themselves, and you know it."

"I know, I know, you're right." Bobby sighed. "I'm sure everything will be okay. They've probably dealt with way worse. I mean, they've been X-men for a long time, so they must've, right?"

"There you go." John smiled. "Nothing can go wrong."

_Yeah. Nothing can go wrong._


	3. The Last Straw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John discovers that he was the only one who wasn't informed about Bobby and Rogue becoming a couple. When he finds out on accident, he's furious.

It was a relief that it was all over. Magneto and most of the Brotherhood were behind bars, Mystique was MIA, and no one was severely injured, despite Rogue nearly dying, Wolverine nearly dying to save her, and the rest of the X-men almost being killed just a floor below them.

John was mentally not okay, however. And while he never was anyway, this time, it was the guilt that was killing him. If he had just reported Mystique to the professor, they could've gotten Rogue sooner, and caught Mystique in the act. Meaning all of that could've been prevented, had John really thought it out.

He could already easily be marked as a traitor or a spy if anyone found out about it. He could be booted from the X-men, maybe even the school for simply not reporting her.

Already, he'd started really focusing on his thinking around Jean and the professor. He always made sure he was thinking about something totally irrelevant, but it always ended in him literally thinking 'Just stop thinking things, it shouldn't be this hard!' followed by 'stop thinking' on repeat. He'd noticed Jean was giving him a very concerned look occasionally.

It was difficult as is, trying to hide that guilt. He had a short attention span, and an even shorter temper. Always on edge, his defense never going down. Rouge almost died, along with hundreds of thousands of other people, just because he didn't say a word about Mystique. 

What a cruel thing to know. Thankfully, no one had died, so it shouldn't matter. And yet, it did. And because of that, he was overly observant, except for when the teacher was talking. He was too busy noticing the tiny little spider crawling on the wall up to it's web in the corner.

Even though he couldn't make out what they were saying, some of his classmates were whispering to each other. And despite the fact that he didn't understand what they were saying, their voices were the loudest thing in the room.

Holding his breath, he tried to focus on the pencil in his hand, but it remained blurry, and refused to move. His paper was blank, apart from a bit of chicken scratch he'd made when he was trying to copy what he saw on the board.

But focus continued to escape him. The gears in his brain continued to work overtime, grinding fast enough for sparks to fly. The pencil twirled between his fingers, though the tip never hit the paper.

Closing his eyes, he tried to ground himself by focusing on his feet. Everything was normal, except for his thoughts. His right foot tapped impatiently against the floor, a sign that it wasn't working.

"John?"

John's eyes immediately opened and he jumped, startled. Storm was at his desk, looking down at him with concern. He felt himself shaking, ever so slightly. He just felt... unsettled.

"Are you alright? ...Your paper's blank." She frowned, then lowered her voice. "Do you need to take a break? I have times when I can't focus either. Why don't you take a walk to clear your head?"

John didn't say a word. He didn't need to. He nodded gratefully, and quietly got up from his seat, heading out the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Bobby was staring at him warily.

The empty halls felt unnatural, since they were usually so full of life. But at the same time, the silence was comforting. Just the sound of his own feet hitting the floor as he walked, the gentle thrum he felt through his legs.

As long as he focused on that, he would be alright. It was a good distraction from the chaos circling in his mind. Maybe it would feel better just to talk about it with someone. Someone he trusted with everything.

If he talked to Bobby, he'd understand, wouldn't he? He always listened, so surely he'd listen to this. And it's not like he'd go tell someone about it. Because if anyone could keep a secret, it was Bobby.

~

It had been on his mind all day, so it was about time he told someone. He needed to get it off his chest. Working up the courage, he got off his bum and started heading to Bobby's dorm.

Today had been an off day. Everyone seemed to be hiding something, even though he was the one hiding from them. Or... did they know? No, there was no way. He hadn't spoken a word about it yet, and he was positive the professors didn't know.

He thought about knocking, until he thought he heard something inside. Talking. Contemplating on whether or not to just leave, something told him to just open the door.

Turning the knob, he opened the door. "Hey, Bobby-" His jaw dropped when he saw Bobby and Rogue... kissing. The two jumped apart, startled at his sudden intrusion.

"John! What are you- haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Bobby glared at him. John was too shocked to hear him. Just a moment ago, Bobby and the person he'd had a bad feeling about from the start, were kissing.

"You- her- when- how- what?!" John sputtered. He felt something bubbling inside him, his fuse lit. But he remained calm on the outside. Taking a deep breath, he spoke again. "How long has _this_ been going on?"

Bobby looked like a deer in headlights. Rogue looked guilty, but she had no idea what she had just done to John. "Just a few days. It only recently became official." The utter betrayal was still sinking in.

"And... what?" John leaned against the door frame. "Were you going to tell me, or was I just supposed to find out?" His sentence was overflowing with spite. Bobby didn't answer him right away. "Who else knows?"

"I thought... everyone knew?" Rogue looked over at Bobby as if to say 'what did you do?'. John felt his eye twitch. 

"Oh, so you were just casually telling everyone and never thought that you should maybe let your _best friend_ know?" John snapped. "Did you think it would be better for me to find out like this? How come no one else told me? How come Kitty didn't tell me?"

"I asked them... not to." Bobby said quietly. John looked at him in disbelief. "I know you don't really... get along with her, so I thought maybe, after we were dating for a bit, I could ease you into it?"

His eyes stung. Words could not describe how hurt he felt right then. "Wow. So much for _that_ plan now, hm? You could've told me, and I wouldn't be nearly as furious with you as I am right now. I get it; it's your life. But since when did we start keeping secrets like this from each other?"

"John, I-"

"You know, I originally came here to talk to you about something I really needed to get off my chest, but since you apparently can't trust me, I guess I can't trust you either." John cut him off, quickly wiping his eyes. Taking another deep breath, he glared at Rogue. _I really wish you had died._ "I'll leave you two alone now."

"Wait, John-"

"Save it." Without another word, he turned around and slammed the door behind him. The shock was still sinking in. This was so much more that just trust. John just lost all faith that he would ever be happy again.

All those ideas Kitty had encouraged into his mind, those visions of pure bliss and happiness, faded away. He shouldn't have let his imagination get the better of him. And he shouldn't have let Kitty give him hope.

Dragging his feet, he headed for his own room. He felt little motivation to do anything besides curl up under his sheets and die. Gently shutting his door behind him, he flopped onto his bed and lay there like that for a little bit.

After a moment, he crawled into bed and under the covers. What was he supposed to do with his life now that Bobby had someone else? It had always been him and Bobby, just the two of them.

Suddenly this weird girl comes into the picture and takes that all away? Replaces him? Shutting his eyes tightly, he tried not to think about it. Truth be told, he was furious. But what was he going to do with that pent up anger?

It was a good thing they had training tomorrow morning. He could release some of that anger there, and no one would get hurt. He wanted to scream, but he'd dealt with emotions like this before.

Just not... 'like this', like this. It wasn't like he was losing his best friend, necessarily. He just wasn't Bobby's number one anymore. So then what was the point of him even being there?

Even if John left, he had nowhere to go. He'd be wandering aimlessly for a purpose until he dropped dead. Here, at least Bobby was there, with him. He just... wouldn't be the only one he really talked to, and spent time with.

He knew he should be happy for Bobby. As long as he was happy, right? Even if it meant John was miserable again. Because without Bobby, he was nothing. Just some poor, terrified kid fighting for his life on the streets.

Glancing up at his bedside table, he had a container that plugged into the wall. It was kind of a mini-mini-fridge. Sitting up, he pressed a button that opened up the top of the box.

Carefully, he lifted out the contents of the box. An ice rose. The first gift he had ever received from Bobby. Or anyone, for that matter. He'd kept it all these years because of that.

Staring at it in his hands, it seemed to stare back without eyes, taunting him. It was freezing to the touch, but after living with Bobby for so long, John hardly noticed the cold anymore.

He was tempted to break it. It only reminded him of everything that couldn't be. Which infuriated him even more. But he hesitated. Breaking it would be like admitting defeat. And that wasn't something John did.

Putting it back in it's containment before he did something stupid, he sighed loudly and went back to sulking under the covers, with his back to the door. There was nothing he could do about it, so he'd have to live with it and accept it.

There was a knock on the door before it slowly creaked open. John didn't even turn around to see who it was. "I'm not ready to talk to you." He growled sharply at the intruder. There was a pause.

"John... I'm sorry." That wasn't Bobby. But Kitty. John rolled over to peek at her from over the covers. "I really am. I wanted to tell you, but Bobby asked me not to. And I wasn't going to do something he asked me directly not to do."

"The last one to find out." John muttered. Kitty lowered her gaze to her feet. "Can you imagine that? I've already got a lot on my mind. Went to talk to him about it, and I find out that my best friend is dating the person I currently hate the most, and didn't think to give me a heads up. He wanted to 'ease me into it'. How do you do that? You either say it, or you don't."

"He was afraid you'd be angry." Kitty explained.

"Yeah? Well I wouldn't be nearly as angry if he'd said it to my face instead of trying to make sure I was the last one to know." John sighed bitterly. "The very last one to know. And I thought I knew him. Never thought he'd hide anything from me."

Kitty glanced into the hall nervously before shutting the door behind her. She walked over to his bedside and sat somewhere near his feet. "I know, better than anyone, just how much this actually hurts you. And I made it worse by telling you it was practically a guarantee. So I'm to blame as well."

"Damn right you are." John grumbled. "I shouldn't have let you get my hopes up. This is why I stay quiet. Imagine I told him before I knew he was dating Rogue. What would've happened then?"

"Well, luckily that didn't happen." Kitty shrugged. "...What's this other thing that's been on your mind? You said you went to talk to Bobby to get it off your chest, and I know I'm not Bobby, but you can trust me too."

John thought about it. If Kitty could keep Bobby's secret, then she could certainly keep John's. Despite being a non-stop chatterbox, she was excellent at keeping secrets.

"You remember the day Rogue left?" John began. Kitty nodded. "Well, it was a member of this 'Brotherhood' that convinced her to go. Their mutation was some kind of chameleon disguise thing. They disguised theirself as Bobby to guilt her into thinking it was best if she left."

"Okay... how did you know that?" Kitty cocked an eyebrow.

"I knew because I talked to them." John replied. "I met them, and saw through their illusion. They admitted to convincing her to leave, but they didn't give a reason. They said they had one other little task to do, and then they'd be gone."

"Wait, you mean they were the one who poisoned the professor?" Kitty pieced together. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't know. I didn't feel compelled to." John shrugged. "When the X-men came back and told us about what had happened, I realized it all could've been prevented if I had just said something, and I became afraid that if they found out I knew something and hadn't told them... I don't know, they'd kick me out or something because they thought I couldn't be trusted."

Kitty didn't respond at first. "That's... a heavy thing to be weighing your mind. I understand where you're coming from, so you can trust me when I say I won't tell anyone else. If you ever need to talk about anything else, I'm always here. Even when Bobby isn't."

"Thanks. That was a relief to tell someone." John replied. "I would tell Bobby, but I don't really want to talk to him at the moment. Or even look at him, really. It's a lot to take in, y'know? The fact that the only person I ever actually loved doesn't love me back. And is dating someone I hate, to boot. But it's not her fault. It's his."

"It's not impossible for them to break up, y'know..."

"Don't get my hopes up again, Kitty."

"Okay, yeah, I'm sorry." She apologized. "I was just so sure I was right. It makes very little sense to me why he'd date her. I'll have to look into it. I have a couple theories, but I'm sure you don't want to hear them."

"Not particularly, no." John confirmed. When he noticed she looked disappointed, he added, "But maybe another time, when I'm less miserable. Just to humor the idea." She smiled.

There was another knock on the door. "I'll get it." Kitty told him, standing up and walking to the door. She opened it, and John immediately glared at the other person. "Oh, Bobby... what a surprise..."

"Kitty? I just came to talk to John-"

Kitty blocked him from entering. "He doesn't want to talk to you at the moment." She told him firmly. "But I have a few words I'd like to say to you." She nudged him out into the hall with her, and she shut the door.

Out of curiosity, John crept out of bed and put his ear to the door to listen.

"Look, Kitty, I just need to apologize to him. I get that I should've said something-" Bobby was saying. But Kitty interrupted.

"No, Bobby, you don't get it." She snapped at him. "He had enough bugging him already, and you had to make it worse. You always do this! You think you know what's best for other people, but you don't! John is your best friend! He of all people deserved to be told to his face. Heck, he should've been one of the first people you told!"

"It shouldn't be that big of a deal! I didn't think he'd be this upset by it." Bobby protested.

"Oh, by which part? You dating Rogue, who you've known for what, a couple weeks maybe?" Kitty pointed out. "Or that you kept a secret like this from him? Has he ever gone out of his way to make sure you had no clue about something? Made sure you didn't know?"

"Well, no, but-"

"But nothing! It's a betrayal of trust, Bobby! John put his trust in you! You'd want him to tell you, wouldn't you?" Kitty countered. "And don't even try and say 'well it's his business', because you know damn well you'd want him to talk to you!"

"Why are _you_ getting all upset about it? Why didn't _you_ tell him if it matters so much?" Bobby frowned.

"Because you asked me not to. And unlike you, I respected your request because you trusted me to. See what I'm getting at?" Kitty hinted not-so-subtly. "It's all about trust here, Bobby! I may not know the full details of his childhood, but I know for a fact that he has trust issues as is. You were the one person he trusted unconditionally. And you took advantage of that."

"I didn't take advantage of it, I wanted to give him time-"

"If you wanted to give him time, you would've told him sooner. If you'd told him when it became official, I bet he'd be over it by now!" Kitty argued. "Stop spouting excuses, and just admit that you were wrong!"

"I'm not wrong, he's just overreacting!"

_SLAP!!_

John flinched at the all-too-familiar sound of a hand smacking someone across the face. Did Kitty just slap Bobby? There was a long silence, and John wondered what was going through Bobby's head right then.

"You need to get off that high horse and own your mistakes. You will have your chance to apologize to him, but it won't mean anything unless you really realize what you did wrong." Kitty hissed at him.

John dove back into his bed just as Kitty re-entered the room, looking not too pleased. She sat back down next him and sighed heavily. Tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, she composed herself.

"I'm sorry, where were we?" She asked.

He wasn't what he was supposed to say at that moment. Every word she'd said had been the truth, even if it was only half the truth. John wished he could've been the one to tell Bobby those words, but Kitty was a force to be reckoned with. And she said it better than he ever could.

If anything, he should be thanking her. He always knew he could trust her, but he never realized that he really considered her to be a real friend. She'd known him forever too. She'd been there from the start too.

But the comfort she provided wasn't nearly enough to help him cope with the fact that he could never have the future he'd wanted. Without Bobby by his side, what was keeping him there?

He just wished he could make up his mind about what to do next.


	4. A Foreign Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After having to escape Xavier's school from Stryker's men, John meets Bobby's family for the first time.

It was horrifying, really. One minute, he was asleep on a normal night, and the next, that one younger girl with the powerful voice is screaming. John considered the possibility that she'd had a nightmare, but something felt very wrong.

A moment later, he realized that alarms were ringing, and there were pounding footsteps through the halls. Something was very, very wrong. Hurrying out of bed and grabbing his lighter, he shoved open the door to see what was going on.

Pure chaos. Students were screaming and running every which way. He could here destruction and shouting on every floor. Lighter in hand and at the ready, he bolted down the hall to find out what the hell was going on.

He was met with a group of about five men trying to round up some of the students. They looked like they were FBI agents. So of course, his first reaction was to protect his fellow mutants.

Flames engulfed the men, and they started screaming, trying to put out the flames. "Why are you standing there?! Come on, we need to get out of here!" He shouted. The kids didn't hesitate another second; them and John ran for it.

John knew of many hidden exits in the mansion; most of the older kids did, just in case of emergencies like this. He could get the kids out of there, and search for Bobby at the same time.

As they ran down the hall together, the elevator door dinged. Everyone was running past it, not paying it a second glance. "John!" John stopped in his tracks, backing up a few steps to the elevator.

"Oh, there you are!" John sighed in relief, giving Bobby a quick one-armed hug. "I was just going to come find you!"

"We need to get out of here; have you seen Rogue?" He asked in a panic. John scowled. Of course she was the first thing on his mind. Not even an 'are you okay?' from him.

"Nope, I didn't see her. Like you said, we gotta get out of here." John reminded him, grabbing him by the arm and trying to pull him forward. But Bobby, stubborn as always, broke away.

"I've got to find her." He said before running down the hall for her room. John hesitated a moment, considering just getting out of there. _No, there's no way I'm just leaving Bobby!_

"Hey!" He called, running after him. He quickly caught up to him, and together they ran down the nearly empty halls. In search, of course, for Rogue. John didn't give a damn if she was okay or not, but he hoped they found her soon, because Bobby wasn't leaving without her.

The two didn't run into anyone at all. Not those men, not any other mutants, no one. John felt like they would only get trapped if the two of them didn't get out of there soon.

"Rogue!" Bobby was calling her name, a panicked expression on his face. John knew that he would've done the same for Bobby, but all Bobby cared about- all he _ever_ cared about nowadays- was Rogue.

"Bobby!" She called, running around the corner. She didn't waste a second before, skidding to a stop and turning back around. "This way!" They turned that corner again, and hurried down the hall.

They quickly came to a stop when the octagonal windows in front and behind them started glowing, before they exploded, shattering the glass. Rogue screamed, and they backpedaled, ready to run back out of there.

Running back the way they came, they ran down two flights of stairs to get to the entrance. But, of course, men bust through the doors, pouring into the room. The three of them froze in terror. Wherever these guys came from, they were bad news.

John wondered for a sliver of a second if this was going to be the end. He clenched his lighter in his hand, about to blast them with fire, until he heard a battle cry. Wolverine suddenly launched himself off the balcony of a higher floor on top of the men, stabbing them in a fury that even John had to admit was terrifying.

As if killing three men in point two seconds was casual, he looked up at them while retracting his claws. "Let's go." It wasn't a request, it was a command. And who were they to argue? The man just saved their lives.

The three were about to follow, when helicopter lights shone through the door, the chopper heard loud and clear. Wolverine barely spared a second at the door before turning back around and ushering them to follow the opposite way.

Just down the hall was one of those hidden exits, which Bobby slammed into, making it open. John didn't waste another moment before getting inside, followed by Rogue and Bobby. But.. wait. Where did Wolverine go?

"Logan!" Rogue shouted as the door closed behind them. Bobby and John didn't hesitate; running down the tunnel, ready to get out of there. But Rogue caught up to them with another idea. "Wait, wait, you guys! We got to do something! They're going to kill him!"

"He can handle himself!" John pointed out, ready to get out of there. "Let's go!"

"Bobby!" Rogue looked at him pleadingly for help. "Please!" John immediately knew he was going to take her side and narrowed his eyes. Bobby would do anything for her. John bet that if it came down to it, he'd let John die if it meant Rogue lived.

"Alright, fine. I've got a plan." Bobby sighed, turning back around. John groaned loudly, but stuck with them anyway. The last thing he wanted was to be alone. They got back to the door, and opened it just enough for Bobby to poke his head and hands through, freezing the wall.

Wolverine was standing there in bewilderment, in front of a bunch of men and this one guy who stood out. The ice protruded from the wall, separating Wolverine from the men.

"No- no!" Wolverine shouted, some reason upset with his rescue.

"Logan, come on! Let's go!" Rogue pleaded. Wolverine hesitated, putting his hand on the ice like he'd just lost something. He wasn't moving, and John was getting nervous that the men were just going to break through.

"Logan." Bobby said calmly. Wolverine turned to look at him, seeming distraught.

"Go, I'll be fine." He commanded.

"But we won't." Rogue countered. Wolverine looked at her, his face revealing that he knew she was right. He started walking towards them, and they heard a weird high pitched sound coming from the other side of the ice.

"Go. Keep going!" Wolverine ordered, following them quickly into the hidden passage. Just as the door shut, they heard a small explosion, and the ice shatter. They didn't hang around to find out who those people were.

The group ran down the passage, fearing the men might find the exit and give chase. There was a ladder that led somewhere, and Bobby knew where it went, considering he made a beeline for it. John remembered that it led to the garage.

The four of them hurried up the ladder and for the blue car there in the lot. John knew how to drive, and was confident he could get them out of there. But Wolverine was probably a more experienced driver, and therefore had a better chance of getting them out.

They piled into the car, and Bobby and John realized the same thing at the same time. Bobby said it first. "This is Cyclop's car."

"Oh yeah?" Wolverine's middle claw unsheathed and he stabbed the ignition, starting the car. The moment the garage started opening, he slammed on the gas, and they went speeding out of there.

As they sped down the road through the forest, John finally felt the courage to speak up. "The hell was that back there?!"

"Stryker." Wolverine replied in a cold tone. "His name is Stryker."

"Who is he?" Rogue asked.

Wolverine hesitated before answering. "I can't remember." John didn't know where they were supposed to go now. He was just glad they were out of there. He was also grateful that Wolverine didn't remember who this Stryker guy was, because he got the feeling he didn't want to know.

"Here." Rogue gave Wolverine some sort of dog tag. "This is yours." Wolverine took it without a word. An awkward silence settled in the car, everyone still processing precisely what just happened.

It was awful, really. The one place John truly called home was gone. They didn't know how many kids were okay, or if any got hurt, or were killed, or captured, or what.

It was too much to think about. John hated it. He didn't want to imagine what terrible things might happen, or what was to come next. He just needed a good distraction. Leaning out of his seat, he reached for the radio.

"I don't like uncomfortable silences." He explained when Wolverine glanced at him in confusion. He pressed a button, which loudly played Bye Bye Bye, making everyone groan.

He quickly tried to change the radio, when he pressed a button revealing some weird silver crest-looking thing. He frowned.

"I don't think that's the CD player." He so helpfully observed as the silver thing extended out of the hidden compartment. Wolverine picked it up, looking at it in wonder. The device beeped. It was probably some kind of communication thing. Perhaps a distress signal of some sort.

"Whoa." Wolverine commented, before glancing at John again. "Sit back." John obeyed, but didn't put on his seat belt. He never liked those.

"Where're we going?" He asked.

"Storm and Jean are in Boston, we'll head that way." Wolverine replied. John frowned, wondering what they were going to do in Boston. What, were they just going to meet up with them and be like 'oh hey, the school was attacked and we don't know where everyone else is or if they're alive.'?

Bobby spoke up for the first time that ride. "My parents live in Boston." John tensed. He hated that word. 'Parents'. But it was because his parents hardly qualified as parents to him. More like slaveholders.

"Good." Wolverine said, speeding up a bit. Wait, was he serious? John swallowed hard. Were they about to go meet _Bobby's parents_? He wasn't sure he was prepared for that. But he knew he didn't exactly have a choice.

Bobby must've noticed his discomfort. Putting his hand on top of John's, he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "They're good people. You've nothing to worry about." He assured him quietly. "I promise."

"Yeah, okay, but what are you going to say when you suddenly appear on their doorstep with me, a girl, and some old guy who constantly reeks of cigarettes and alcohol?" John pointed out.

"You know I can hear you, right?" Wolverine reminded him.

"Well, you do. I'm not the one who's gotta do something about it. That's a you problem." John countered.

"Yeah, well you look like some juvenile delinquent a girl would bring home to disappoint her parents." Wolverine snapped back.

"Wow, guys, can you chill-" 

"Jokes on you, I don't like girls in the first place." John cut Rogue off. Rogue looked at him with both shock and confusion, but she was the only one who really realized what he just admitted to. Even he didn't really realize it himself. "And you can't really talk about being the type of guy that someone's parents wouldn't approve of."

"Touché." Wolverine shrugged. "But at least I-"

"GUYS!!" Rogue shouted, making the two of them shut up. "We're all under a lot of stress from what happened, but that's no reason to be taking it out on each other. We all experienced it together, so we can work it out together too. But not if we're at each other's throats."

"She's right John. You're not helping." Bobby frowned.

"Yeah sure. It's completely my fault. Not his whatsoever." John grumbled.

"Hey, you started it." Wolverine shrugged.

"Oh, real mature, skunk bear." He rolled his eyes.

"Wow, are you really going there? Do you want me to pull over?" He cocked an eyebrow at John through the mirror. John scoffed, but didn't test him further. "That's what I thought."

Bobby gave John a look, but John didn't look at him. He hated when he did that. It made him feel like he was the bad guy. Everyone always seemed to blame him, even if someone else was involved, and John was sick of it.

But that was the least of his worries. He really wasn't ready to meet Bobby's parents. He knew Bobby's family wouldn't be terrible, but that was kind of the problem. When he was on the streets, and even before that, he hated looking at happy families.

It was something he never had. And likely never _would_ have. Because the students and professors didn't count as his family. The closest people to family were Bobby, and maybe Kitty. But even they weren't close enough.

Well, Bobby was. Just not anymore. 

It just occurred to John that he didn't know if Kitty was okay or not. If she was alive, if she escaped, if she was captured- anything. His only real friend as of recently, gone. Just like everything else happy in his life. It all kept ending before he was ready for it.

But perhaps that was just the way life went. _If that's how it is, then what's the point? What do I live for, if all I ever get is hurt?_ Leaning against the back of the seat, he let out an almost shaky sigh, but was able to keep it steady enough.

Closing his eyes, he just wished for this nightmare to be over.

~

"Hey, John." Bobby nudged him gently. "Wake up, we're here." John blinked open his eyes, unprepared for the sun that shone directly in his eyes. Shielding his face from the sun, he blinked the fireflies out of his vision.

They all got out of the car, and John felt his stomach drop. He hadn't been inside a normal suburban house in almost ten whole years. It was far more intimidating than he thought it'd be. All he could picture was his old home, hoping Bobby's would look nothing like it.

Bobby led the way, as he unlocked the door, pushing it open. "Mom? Dad? Ronny?" He called. "Anyone home?" There was no answer, so John assumed that meant no one was here. Fantastic. So they'd be coming home to a bunch of miscreants. Bobby looked over at Rogue. "Let's find you some clothes."

Rogue was only dressed in a noodle-strap tank top and rather short shorts. No wonder Bobby wanted to cover her up. She looked like some kind of skank. Which, in John's opinion, she was, but that wasn't important.

Flicking his lighter, he looked around at the house. All the curtains were open, and everything was pastel colors, which gave it a nice welcoming feel. A feel his old home didn't have. The curtains were always drawn shut, except when they had guests. But if they had guests, John was never downstairs.

He then noticed Bobby giving him a serious look. "Don't burn anything." He said before guiding Rogue upstairs. John rolled his eyes. Did Bobby just have zero faith that he knew when not to do something?

Wolverine headed for the kitchen, likely for a beer. John glowered. He felt awkward just standing there by himself, so he wandered a bit. The house was nice enough, with a much brighter and homey aesthetic than any place he'd been before.

Walking down a short hallway, he looked at the pictures framed on the walls. Family photos. They looked so happy in them, like a perfect family. And the smiles on their faces were so genuine, not forced at all. It hurt to look at.

Bobby always had everything he didn't, which was part of why he couldn't ever understand him. John wished he knew more people who were outsiders like him. Maybe then he could really relate to people, which was always one of the hardest things to do.

He couldn't look at those pictures any longer. He shifted his attention back to his lighter, flicking it open and closed, staring into the flame intently, as if searching for answers.

He snapped the cap shut when he suddenly heard the front door open. "Hey, Ronny, next time you-" An older man's voice trailed off. John poked his head around the corner. Bobby's parents and brother stood there in shock, staring at Wolverine in the kitchen, a beer bottle in his hand. "Who the hell are you?"

Bobby quickly came down the stairs along with Rogue to stop something bad from happening. "Bobby? Honey, aren't you supposed to be at school?" His mother pointed out, still in shock.

"Bobby, who is this guy?" His father demanded.

Bobby hesitated. "This is... professor Logan." He half lied. "There's something I need to tell you." Dread suddenly washed over John, and he quickly emerged from around the corner, startling the already on edge adults.

"Bobby, I'd think really hard about what you're about to say next." He warned. Bobby turned to look at him.

"I know what I'm doing, John. It's okay, I promise." He said gently. John wasn't convinced in the slightest. "Don't look at me like that."

"I have concerns." John replied. "I'm not saying don't, I'm just saying you should really think about what reaction your going to receive."

"They're good people. They would never hurt me. They're my family." Bobby narrowed his eyes. John scoffed. He was so naive.

"Just 'cause they're your family doesn't mean they wouldn't hurt you." John muttered. Bobby started to apologize, but John interrupted. "It's your choice, but don't say I didn't warn you."

"You need to have a little more faith." Bobby told him before turning back to his confused parents. "Mom, dad... I'm-"

"Gay? We knew that already." His father interrupted. There was a beat of silence before John and Rogue bust out laughing. Even Wolverine started snickering. "What? Was that not what he was going to say?"

"Just let him finish." Bobby's mom sighed.

"I wasn't- I'm not- dad, I have a girlfriend!" Bobby protested, throwing his hands up in disbelief. "What made you think that?"

"Well, you're search history-"

"DON'T answer that." Bobby cut him off quickly, glaring at John and Wolverine. Them and Rogue collected themselves. "That isn't what I was going to say. I was going to tell you, that I'm a mutant."

The room went dead silent. "I think we all need to sit down." His mother said after a moment. The all were guided to the living room, where most of them sat down. John stood at the back of the room, flicking his lighter. Wolverine stood in the doorway.

The silence continued, only filled by the clicking of his lighter. The energy in the room had plummeted to a very uncomfortable level. _I tried to warn him._ John thought to himself, awaiting the worst.

John noticed Bobby's brother looked like he had a storm brewing inside of him. The tense silence was getting to be too much for anyone to deal with, so Bobby's mother finally broke it.

"So!" She began. "When did you first know that you were a..."

"A mutant?" John finished for her. He hated when people spoke about mutants like it was a disease. Bobby's mother looked annoyed, and he realized she was looking at the lighter.

"Would you cut that out?" She said in annoyance. John looked right at her, closing the cap sharply, making one last _ting_ sound, just to piss her off.

"You have to understand, we thought our son was going to a school for the gifted." His father spoke up.

"Bobby _is_ gifted." Rogue said immediately.

"We know that, we just didn't realize that it-"

"We still love you, Bobby." His mother finished for his father. John frowned. Of course they did. Bobby had great parents, a great home, a great reputation- everything. John should've expected that they wouldn't immediately kick them out or start yelling at Bobby, calling him worthless, and a freak, et cetera. "It's just..." Oh? There was more. "This mutant problem is a little..."

"What mutant problem?" Wolverine crossed his arms, looking straight at her, daring her to continue.

"Complicated." She finished. The attention then shifted to Wolverine.

"What exactly are you the professor of, Mr. Logan?" His father asked, like he was testing him. Wolverine looked back at him.

"Art." John almost laughed. _Yeah, the art of how to kill dozens of men without effort._

"Well you should see what Bobby can do." Rogue pointed out helpfully. Bobby's mother set down her tea cup, and Bobby touched the outside, freezing the liquid inside. The shock on his mother's face was priceless.

She tipped the frozen tea onto the plate, seeing that it was indeed, very solid. Their cat jumped onto the table and started licking the frozen tea. John smiled a little. If anything could break tension, it'd be a cat.

"I can do a lot more than that." Bobby grinned, also pleased with his mother's reaction. John noticed Ronny's storm was growing. It was odd. What did he have to be so angry about?

"Alright, what's his deal?" Ronny spoke up suddenly, looking straight at John. Everyone looked at Ronny in confusion. "He's your teacher, she's your girlfriend; what about him? And why the heck are you all coming here all of a sudden?"

"Well, he's my best friend." Bobby said slowly. _Best friend huh? When did that start up again?_ "I'd have thought you'd gathered that. And we're here for... complicated reasons."

"You made friends with a delinquent?" Ronny cocked an eyebrow at him. John threw up his hands in annoyance.

"Why does everyone keep saying that? I haven't even _done_ anything illegal!" John protested. _Well, in a while._ He added to himself. Ronny growled, then got up from the couch and stalked up the stairs.

"This is all my fault." His mother breathed.

"Actually, they discovered that males are the ones who carry the mutant gene and pass it on, so," John looked over at Bobby's father. "It's his fault." Everyone looked back at John, and he flicked his lighter casually.

"John." Bobby narrowed his eyes at him. "Not helping."

"What, you want your mother to wallow in self-blame?" John pointed out. "I wasn't trying to be helpful, I was simply stating the facts."

"Yeah, well some things are better left unsaid." Bobby countered. "Just... stop."

"Stop what? I'm not doing anything. I said one thing, and now you're mad at me. That seems to be how it goes these days." John grumbled. "You act like you don't say unhelpful things all the time. You're not exactly perfect either."

"At least I know that some situations don't require commentary." Bobby argued back.

"At least I don't have ice between my ears." John muttered.

"John!" Rogue narrowed her eyes. "Can't you chill for two seconds? Why are you constantly picking fights with everyone?"

"Because no one ever seems to be pleased with anything I say or do, so they have to get all over my case for the stupidest reasons." John replied. "And no, I can't chill." He punctuated chill by flicking open his lighter.

"John, don't." Bobby glared at him.

"I'm not doing anything! See, this is exactly what I'm talking about it." John rolled his eyes, shutting the cap of his lighter again.

"So are all of you mutants?" Bobby's mother asked, changing the subject. 

"What do you think?" John squinted at her. Bobby gave him a warning look, and he finally decided to just close his mouth.

Everyone was startled when they heard beeping all of a sudden. They all looked to Wolverine, who realized it was that device they discovered in the car. "Oh, god. It's for me." He walked away quickly. John prayed this meant they could get out of here soon.

Once he was in another room, Bobby's mother spoke up again. "Bobby... have you tried... _not_ being a mutant?" They all looked at her, insulted.

"That's not how that works." Bobby sighed.

Wolverine suddenly hurried back in, an urgent look on his face. "We have to go now."

"Why?" Rogue sat up quickly.

"Now!" Wolverine barked. The three of them got ready to go, hurrying to their feet.

"Logan, what's wrong?" Rogue asked.

Wolverine's claws unsheathed as he briskly walked to the door. The three followed close behind. The moment they got outside, they saw police cars in the front yard, guns all pointed at them.

"Drop the knives, and put your hands in the air!" They all looked to their right at a male officer, gun pointed at them, a serious look on his face.

"What's going on here?" Wolverine glowered at them. John felt that panic from before bubbling inside of him again.

"Ronny." Bobby said out loud. John knew exactly what he meant. Bobby's brother had called the cops on them. _That little shit!_ John cursed in his head.

"I said, drop the knives!" The officer repeated, getting closer. There was another officer on the other side of them, preventing their escape. They heard officers entering the house.

"This is all just a misunderstanding." Wolverine tried.

"Put the knives down!" The officer demanded again. John got a really bad feeling. Wolverine looked over at the officer.

"I can't." He said. John swallowed hard. He'd dealt with police before, but he'd never had other people to worry about at the same time. "Look..." He started raising his hands, but the police officer suddenly shot him in the head.

Rogue screamed as he hit the ground. The officer then looked at the three of them. "Alright, the rest of you! On the ground!" Bobby and Rogue slowly started to kneel, but the panic inside John was getting too extreme for him to listen.

Yes, he was afraid. But he was also furious. He knew Wolverine would be fine, but as far as the officer knew, he'd killed him. And he was fine with that.

"Look, kid, I said on the ground!" The officer shouted.

Fear was a powerful emotion, but so was anger. John knew he could take out each and every one of those officers, and he was prepared to do it. He was beginning to breathe heavily, the shock of the moment taking over his senses. They were going to hurt Bobby. And he wasn't about to allow that.

"We don't wanna hurt you, kid." The female officer said, still pointing the gun at him. Taking a deep breath, he tried to compose himself.

"You know all those dangerous mutants you hear about on the news?" He began, flicking open his lighter. Bobby gave him a pleading look, but he ignored it. He looked right at the male officer, directly into his eyes as he spoke. "I'm the worst one."

He didn't give the officers time to react, let alone shoot them. He'd been in similar situations before. It was almost like he was back on the streets, cornered by the police after having been caught pick-pocketing a stranger.

Except he couldn't just run now. He wasn't by himself anymore. He had something to protect. So he had to stand his ground. His flames had already knocked the officers on their right and left off the porch, but there were still several all around them.

Whipping around, he blasted fire into the house at the officers in the living room. Four or five down, but there were still the ones in the yard. And he hadn't scouted their escape route yet.

By this point, a couple shots were fired from the officers behind the car doors, though their aim was way off. All that accomplished was helping John locate his next targets. If they were recklessly shooting like that, what were the chances of them hitting Bobby on accident. There was no way he'd allow that to happen.

Engulfing two cars in flames, he targeted the engines, which caused them to explode. He smirked a little. He'd forgotten the thrill of a fight like this. One against a billion, it felt like.

Another gunshot sounded, and John felt something hot graze his arm. Ultimately, it only barely grazed his arm, but even that stung like hell. Now antagonized, he used a full on blast of fire to torch the officers in the direction the bullet came from. They tried to hide behind their vehicles, but the cars hardly offered much protection from his fire.

Glancing down at Bobby to check if he was okay, he realized Bobby's face had drained of all color, horrified at what he was witnessing. _I guess it can be a little scary at first, but he'll thank me later._ John thought, returning his attention to the police.

Backup was arriving, but that was only a minor inconvenience. He easily scorched the first car with another blast of fire, sending it flying back at the car behind it. The two collided, but the officers in the vehicle managed to swerve away in time that they didn't get hit with the car head on.

He noticed another officer raising his gun from inside the car, and engulfed it in flames. They were trapped inside, but he was too furious to let up. If they died, it was their own fault. All he needed to do was keep stalling until he found (or made) their escape route.

Someone grabbed his ankle, but he hardly paid them any mind. Until his flames stopped bending to his will. A weird sensation traveled through his body. At first, it was simple uncomfortable, but it began to feel like his insides were burning.

It felt like all his energy was being drained from his body, and he struggled to even remain standing. Planting his feet firmly, he was starting to see black spots in his vision, along with dizziness.

At first, he thought he was just imagining the wind that came from above, but then it was followed by a loud plane sound. Looking up, they all saw the X-plane descending from the clouds onto the street. Their getaway.

Rogue finally let go of his ankle, and he felt such a wave of relief, he nearly fell over. Bobby was suddenly behind him, catching him before he hit the ground. He could barely feel his legs, and his ability to breathe normally was only just returning.

Wolverine got up suddenly, apparently not dead. "Come on." He said, not wasting another moment before running for the plane. The other three followed close behind. Or, well, tried to.

"Hey, hey, steady there, John." Bobby told him softly, keeping a firm hold on him. John's feeling in his legs was returning a little slow for his taste, but he could walk. Bobby helped him hurry to the plane, of which the ramp was lowering for their entry.

Bobby paused before boarding, looking back at his house one last time. He then helped John onto the plane and into a seat, before going to sit down himself. Wolverine headed to the front to talk to Storm and Jean about their current situation, so they could figure out what to do next.

The three of them weren't talking, so there was a tense silence. John glanced at Bobby and Rouge. Rogue seemed distraught, and Bobby looked angry, or frustrated. He got the feeling that Bobby didn't think he did the right thing.

"What the hell was that?!" Bobby demanded, finally glaring at John. John glanced over at him nervously. He hoped he wasn't about to get chewed out for saving their asses. "All you had to do was get down. You didn't have to go all pyromaniac on them! Fighting trained officers?! What were you thinking?!"

"That's a fine 'thank you'." John scoffed, not looking at Bobby. "I was stalling until I figured out how to get us all out of there. Lucky for us, Logan was way ahead of us. Set fire to things and run. It's always been my strategy; haven't I told you this before?"

"I don't care about your strategy, resisting the police makes you a criminal all by itself! Not to mention committing arson, assault, _attempted murder_ -"

"I wasn't trying to kill anyone! All I wanted to do was get us out of there! Yes, I panicked. Yes, I may have overdone it a bit. But it ended up working in the end, so I don't get why you're so mad at me!" John protested.

"They could've hurt you! Or worse, you could've been killed! And I-" Bobby paused, taking a deep breath. "I was scared, okay? Today hasn't exactly been that great for any of us. And if you had died..."

"Oh." John immediately felt guilty. He hadn't thought about that. He'd been so focused on protected Bobby, he didn't give a damn about what could've happened to him. "Then I'm sorry."

"It's fine now. I mean, you didn't get hurt, and that's what's important." Bobby sighed. John sheepishly looked away from him, covering the torn hole in his sleeve that was over a bleeding burn on his arm. He didn't need Bobby worrying about that.

"Yep. Completely fine." John nodded, looking out the window. Bobby glanced back over at him in confusion, but didn't question it. They all looked away from each other, out the windows to try and ignore the tense vibe in the plane.

"That's weird." Storm spoke up suddenly. Everyone looked at her in alarm. Those words were not what they wanted to hear in the slightest. "I've got two signals approaching. Coming in fast."

"Unidentified aircraft, you are ordered to descend to 20,000 feet. Return with our escort to Hanscom Air Force Base." A staticy voice demanded loudly. Everyone exchanged a look. "You have ten seconds to reply."

"Wow, somebody's angry." Storm joked.

"I wonder why." John didn't like that Wolverine was looking right at him when he said that. Today had been maybe one of the worst days John's had in a very long time.

They never could catch a break, could they.


	5. Magneto And Mystique

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The X-men have to team up with Magneto to find the professor. But John learns that he may also be the key to the future he so desired.

The night was cool, though the air was still. There were few clouds in the sky, and the stars were bright. John stared up at them, laying on his back, hands behind his head comfortably.

Amazing how one thing leads to another. An invasion on the school, meeting Bobby's family, setting fire to a bunch of police officers, getting into an air chase, nearly crash landing, and then being saved by the guy everyone calls the bad guy.

Magneto. John had to admit, he was intimidated by the old man. And that blue woman seemed familiar somehow. She looked like she had scales or something, which made John wonder if they had a purpose.

The bright stars in the sky were a nice change of pace from that miserable day. Were there several things John wished he'd done differently? Yes. He knew he really owed Bobby and Wolverine and Rogue some apologies, but there was no way he was going to go through with them.

On the bright side, the bleeding of his bullet wound had stopped, but not before making a huge red stain on his shirt and a crusty trail down his arm. Lucky for him, it was dark, and no one would notice. Unlucky for him, he didn't have another shirt, and didn't have anything to patch up and wash said shirt. Or anything to patch up his wound without letting anyone know he had it in the first place.

And to top it all off, he had to try not to think about it, despite it still hurting quite a bit when he moved his arm, because then Jean would know about it. Though he doubted he could keep it up forever, he had to try.

They'd set up tents for all of them. One for Magneto and his lackey, Jean and Storm were sleeping on the jet, one for Wolverine, one for Nightcrawler (which was a that blue guy's name apparently), one for Bobby and Rogue, and one for John.

Originally, the plan was for Bobby to be with John, but Bobby had said he didn't want Rogue to be alone when Magneto was there, after that incident. _Oh great, I just made myself think about that again. And after I'd finally found something else to think about._

So he was alone outside his tent, staring up at the stars in the sky. Everyone else had gone to bed. But John couldn't sleep. Not after everything that happened that day. He was surprised _anyone_ could sleep.

But perhaps they weren't as bothered by it as he was. It was like the universe wanted him to remain miserable. After seven good years, his happiness had exceeded it's limit, and he was back to complicated and unfortunate situations.

Today was only the start. Tomorrow, as he'd overheard, they were going to infiltrate this 'Stryker' guy's hideout. But as long as John and his bad luck were there, he bet it would all go horribly. And all thanks to him just being there.

He considered just running away. He'd done it before, he could easily do it again, while everyone was asleep. And he doubted anyone would even notice him gone. Or care, for that matter.

The stars were mocking him. Glimmering perfection and beauty, staring down at this unfortunate soul with judgement. Those stars were lucky. All they had to do was float around in space and flow along with everything else. It simply wasn't fair.

Why did John have to be this way? Why did he have to suffer, and bring everyone down with him? If John hadn't started the fires, they wouldn't have ended up in the middle of nowhere with a broken jet and a couple of villains.

If John hadn't been there at all, maybe everything would've been okay. Maybe they'd be at Bobby's, safe and sound, without so many problems facing them. Maybe Bobby wouldn't have told them he was a mutant, maybe they could've come up with a better solution.

Maybe if John hadn't completely blown it, things would be okay. Was everything his fault? What would the world be like if he'd never been born to begin with? Maybe all those people that were killed on the streets in front of him would be alive, because they wouldn't be wasting their time failing at catching some little thief. But it was them or him.

And maybe that them losing their lives was the wrong choice. Maybe he was the one who should've been killed. The stars didn't have worries like these. They didn't have a care in the world.

"Well, the stars aren't sentient." John sat up quickly in alarm, whipping around to see Jean walking over to him. He immediately began thinking of white noise, a white room, and just of that empty nothingness. Jean sighed. "I wished you'd stop doing that around me."

"Then stay out of my brain." John snapped, laying back down and hoping she'd go away. But instead she sat down next to him and looked up at the stars with him, leaning back on her hands.

"You've got a lot on your mind, and your thoughts are very loud. You seem to be having an internal crisis." Jean said. "So I'm going to start with this; it's not your fault."

John glanced at her. "What?"

"I said, it's not your fault. It's not your fault your childhood was the way it was. It's not your fault all those people died, because if letting you slip away got them killed, then they weren't going to live much longer anyways." Jean pointed out. "And nothing about the events of today are your fault."

John refused to look at her.

"There are so many things you're blaming yourself for that have almost nothing to do with you at all. You shouldn't do that to yourself." Jean continued. "It isn't healthy. Just like hiding that bullet wound isn't healthy for you."

John glared at her. "Look, woman. If I wanted to listen to you talk on and on about my problems, I'd have talked to you sooner. I haven't slept in nearly twenty-four hours, but I just needed some alone time. Kindly piss off."

Jean sighed. "Alright, I realize there's no way to make you listen- I mean, there is, but I'm not cruel- so I'll leave you to your thoughts." As she was standing, she hesitated. "You really should go to bed soon, though. Staying up till almost three in the morning isn't a very good thing for you."

John watched her walk back to the jet until she was out of sight. Sighing, he got up from where he was laying, and unzipped his tent. He got inside and zipped it shut again, before crawling into a prepared sleeping bag to gather warmth. Even if he wasn't cold.

It was no surprise to him that his attempts at hiding his thoughts were in vain. Jean was a very powerful telepath, and could easily see through his defense. But it wasn't like she was going to tell anyone else about his thoughts, he just had to live with the fact that he couldn't hide anything from her.

Flicking the cap of his lighter, he simply listened to the _ting_ of the metal each time it closed. While he listened, he continued contemplating on running away. But he didn't know where the heck he was, and he wasn't exactly simpatico with the police at the moment, so it was best to stay in a group.

If he wanted to get very far, he had to be smart about it. Which meant staying for a little while longer, no matter how painful it may be. He couldn't stand to be around Bobby and Rogue much longer. It was like Bobby had replaced him, hardly giving him a second glance when he could be looking at Rogue.

And he was sick of putting up with it for so long. He was done pretending, done acting like everything was okay, when in reality, that was the opposite of the truth. He tried to go along with it for Bobby, but he couldn't do it anymore.

No matter how many times he told himself 'at least Bobby's still here', Bobby would never love him the way he loved Bobby. And it was torture to sit there and put on a fake smile for someone who would never know just how much he was hurting him.

He had to escape from it all, and move on. This part of his life was over now too. He'd just have to try and forget it too. Just like everything else he'd left behind. He'd have to do it all over again.

Shifting onto his side, he held the lighter tightly in his hand, shutting his eyes to finally try and get some rest. They had a long and treacherous day ahead of them.

~

They were back in the air, finally getting that piece of junk to work again. John wasn't going to lie; they didn't do the greatest repair job. But they didn't really have much time, or materials, so he couldn't exactly blame them.

John was sitting in the back, somewhat near Magneto and the blue lady. Was he afraid? Not really. Being around them wasn't scary, just weird. They looked harmless. Well, no, the blue lady looked like she could kick ass, but the old man seemed harmless.

Unless someone knew what he could do, if someone randomly saw him, they'd have no idea he was such a danger. He may not be afraid or angered by their presence, but he could tell Bobby and Rogue certainly were.

Rogue looked one sentence away from murder. John had a feeling that if they said even a word, she'd explode. And John knew that they were most definitely going to say something. It was a perfect opportunity for them.

"We love what you've done with your hair." Magneto said. Rogue glared at him and began taking off her glove.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, Rogue." Bobby caught her shoulders, stopping her from doing something she might regret. "They're not worth it. Come on." He then guided her away, and the two of them snickered a little.

John had to admit, it was a little funny. But it was mostly cruel, considering what they did to her. Even John had never said a word about her hair, because he knew that was taking it too far. They really _were_ evil.

"So they say you're the bad guy." John spoke up, gaining their attention.

"Is that what they say?" Magneto replied. John nodded a little, then noticed his helmet. 

"That's a dorky-looking helmet." He commented. The two of them looked over at him. "What's it for?"

"This 'dorky-looking helmet' is the only thing that's going to protect me from the real bad guys." Magento answered. The lighter in John's hand suddenly floated over to Magneto's hand. Looking curiously at the shark lighter, he continued to speak. "What's you name?"

John hesitated. But he didn't have a chance to say it, before the blue woman did. "John, right?" John looked at her in surprise.

"Wait, you know my name?" He asked skeptically, narrowing his eyes. "How?"

"Oh. Right, you haven't seen me like this." Her scales suddenly spiked up in a sort, shifting her appearance to that of that young blonde woman from the day Rogue left. "It's almost funny, the ways we keep meeting."

John's jaw was slacked a bit in shock. "Oh. O-okay. Nice to see you again, Mystique. I think. Is... that how you really look?" She was back to blue, and frowned at him.

"Is that a problem?" She asked coldly.

"What? No! No, I think you look badass as hell." He clarified her.

"Oh. That's a new one. Thank you." She relaxed. "I _am_ badass as hell."

Magneto cleared his throat. "I'm not going to even question this- but I believe I asked _him_ what his name was." Mystique smiled sheepishly. Magneto turned back to him. "So then. What's your real name, John?"

"My real... are- are you asking for my full name? Because I don't use my last name anymore. Haven't in a while." John glanced away nervously.

"No, I'm asking what your _real_ name is." Magneto emphasized real by flicking open John's lighter.

"Ohh..." John paused, gathering the fire from the lighter into the palm of his hand. Staring at it for a moment, he spoke up again. "Pyro."

"Quite a talent you have there, Pyro." Magneto complimented him.

"I can only manipulate the fire. I can't create it." John sighed, putting the fire out by closing his hand into a fist.

"You are a god among insects." Magneto told him. John looked at him in surprise. "Never let anyone tell you different." Magneto passed John's lighter back to him, and John hesitantly took it.

"Well, I've been told the exact opposite nearly my entire life, so you can't blame me for believing so." John chuckled. Mystique looked over at him, surprised.

"I was too." She said sadly. "But you have to remember," She curled John's hand around his lighter. "Mutants and proud."

John retracted his hand back to himself, and looked down. He scoffed. "Yeah, right." He muttered.

"By the way," Magneto spoke up. "You uncovered your injury." He nodded at John's arm, and he tensed, immediately hiding it with his hand again. "How did you get that?"

"It's nothing." John said quickly. "I don't need anyone worrying about me. Or acting like they do." He added bitterly. "It'll heal on it's own." Magneto looked at him for a moment, then John felt sharp pain in his arm.

He yelped in pain and flinched away when something pulled away from his wound. Looking at Magneto in confusion, he saw a tiny ball little lint-sized ball of metal in the air.

"Now it's alright for it to heal." Magneto said. "If you'd healed with this in there, it might've gotten infected." John was still confused. "Some of the metal from the bullet got stuck in your arm." He explained.

"Oh."

Bobby suddenly rushed in to see what was going on. "John, what was that? Are you alright?" He asked, a hint of panic behind his words. John immediately covered his arm again, startled by Bobby's unexpected entry.

"...What was what?" John asked, playing dumb.

"You know exactly what." Bobby narrowed his eyes at Magneto and Mystique. "I heard you cry out in pain. If they hurt you, so help me-"

"Whoa there, calm down." John stood up quickly to block him from attacking Magneto. "Everything's fine, you must be hearing things." Bobby did a double take with his eyes at John's arm, and John realized he'd uncovered it on instinct. Worse, because of Magneto's sudden removal of the metal, the wound started bleeding again.

"Everything's _not_ fine, you're bleeding!" Bobby exclaimed. He glared daggers at the two as he started dragging John away. "I don't want you near them. You remember what they tried to do to Rogue, I don't even want to think about what they'd do to you! Why were you pretending they didn't hurt you when they so obviously did?!"

"Bobby, they weren't the ones who did this!" John told him, pulling his arm away. "And Magneto was helping me! Sure, a warning would've been nice, but I was letting it heal on it's own, and he realized that there was some lead alloy in the wound, which would've caused problems had I let it stay there."

"Lead alloy- what, you mean you _were_ shot and you didn't tell me?!" Bobby exasperated. "John, you can't do that! We could've helped you just fine if you'd told us! I can't believe you tried to hide it!"

"I don't need to tell you everything, Bobby! I can take care of myself." John argued. "Relax, I'm fine. It's fine, it'll be fine. And anyway, what they tried to do to Rogue only worked specifically with Rogue. They aren't going to do anything to me."

"You don't know that. I don't trust them, and neither should you." John rolled his eyes, avoiding eye contact with Bobby. "I'm asking you- _begging_ you- don't associate yourself with them. It'll only end badly."

"And you think you know what's best for me... why, exactly? What makes you think I have to listen to you?" John inquired.

"Because I've known you for seven whole years, and I know you better than anyone-"

"No, you don't. You _think_ you do, and that's your problem." John shut him down immediately. He then glanced back over at Magneto and Mystique, who were watching. "Can we not do this right now?"

"Only if you let me attend to your arm." Bobby compromised. John groaned.

"Ugh, fine." He grumbled, following Bobby into another part of the jet. "Why are you like this?"

"Oh, why am _I_ like this?" Bobby scoffed, retrieving the first-aid kit from the wall. "I was about to ask you that question. You always do this. You and your stupid ego, thinking you can't ask for help every once in a while."

"I didn't need help." John told him.

"Yeah? Well you accepted Magneto's help with your wound just fine." Bobby shrugged in annoyance.

"I didn't know about the metal, so it's not my fault." John protested.

"The first step of healing a wound is to clean it, John. We would've gotten that sooner." Bobby pointed out. "Of course, I still need to clean it anyway. Either roll up your sleeve, or take off your shirt altogether."

"Absolutely not." John started carefully rolling his sleeve up, trying to make sure the fabric didn't touch the bleeding wound. Getting a better look at it, it was a little deep for his taste, the skin on the outside seriously red due to the heat of the bullet. It was somewhat disgusting to look at, but cool at the same time.

Once his sleeve was fully rolled up, Bobby inhaled sharply. "You lost quite a bit of blood there. Why on earth would you just let yourself bleed out like that?"

"Quit badgering me about it. What's done is done." John hissed. Bobby frowned, then removed gauze from the kit, gently patting up the blood around the wound before getting another gauze pad to hold on the actual wound itself. 

John winced at the pressure. "Sorry." Bobby apologized, lessening the pressure slightly. They just stood there in silence for a bit, letting the gauze soak up the blood. It should stop bleeding in a little while.

They wouldn't look each other in the face, though John noticed Bobby looked really pissed off. Maybe he should've said something sooner. _No, you're fine. Bobby's just mad that you didn't tell him. It's not like it's any of his business what happens to me._

When the wound finally stopped bleeding, Bobby took out a cloth and a small bottle of water. Wetting the cloth, he first cleaned up all the dry blood on his forearm, and pat around the wound just to be safe. He then gently pat the wound itself to clean it, wiping the wound in (attempted) soft strokes.

"Ow!" John flinched away, the sharp sting returning. "That hurts!"

"If you just still, it wouldn't hurt as much." Bobby snapped. "I'm not trying to hurt you, but you need to bear with me here. I'm not some healing prodigy." He continued patting the wound, a little more aggressively, but John knew complaining about the sting would only annoy him further.

Finally drying the area around the wound, Bobby wrapped medical tape around it for extra measure. He was careful on to tie it too tight, but not too loosely either. John then pulled his sleeve back down.

"...Thanks." John said after a moment.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Bobby demanded. John sighed. Why did he even open his mouth? "This all could've been taken care of already."

"Because, I..." _I didn't want you to worry._ He trailed off, not sure how he should answer. "Because..."

"Because what? Because you thought you didn't need help? Because you assumed you had everything under control? Because it would kill you to tell me straight when something's wrong? Because what?!" Bobby shouted. John flinched.

"Because I knew you'd react this way!" He blurted. "I knew you would be panicking or afraid or angry with me, and I knew you wouldn't listen to me! You wouldn't let me explain, because you only hear what you want to hear!"

"John, I _want_ to listen! But whenever something's wrong, I have to go all Sherlock Holmes on you to figure it out! You don't talk to me anymore! Like- like I did something wrong!" Bobby countered.

"You did do something wrong!" John shot back. "But the reason I don't tell you is because for you, it's not a problem! And it shouldn't be as big of a problem as it is for me! I shouldn't be upset about it, I shouldn't hate her the way I do, but I can't help it!"

"If I did something wrong, why can't you tell me so I can fix it?!"

"Guys, guys!" Rogue hurried into the room, panic adorning her features. "What the heck is going _on_ in here?! We thought we could hear shouting from the other side of the ship; what's wrong?"

"None of your business." John snarled, shouldering past her. "We're done here."

"No, we're not-" Rogue blocked Bobby, giving him a pleading look. He hesitated before giving in.

"Anyway, guys, we're about to have a strategy meeting, if you wanted to come find out what they're planning to do." Rogue informed them. "They sent me to come find you to... see what you two were up to."

"Well, you found us. Lead the way." John said in a somewhat monotone voice. Rogue led them through the ship, a tense silence between them. Perhaps Magneto was right, in a way. He was right that he didn't belong here.

He needed to get out of there, needed to run away, to escape. But alas, he still had to wait. He would await the opportune moment. And that moment was coming; he felt it. And it was coming soon.

Very soon.


	6. The Opportune Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finally gets fed up with Rogue and Bobby, and gets out of there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this version of events, Jean doesn't 'die', so neither does Scott. And that is the only reason. Because losing Scott the first time was too much of a shock that it was very hard to process. Like, what the hell. He didn't even have a death scene or anything. I'm still mad about it.

The X-men, Mystique, and Magneto had all left, leaving only John, Bobby, and Rogue alone together. Which was a terrible idea, in John's opinion. John and Bobby refused to even look at each other at the moment, and Rogue had to suffer through it.

It was so painfully, _agonizingly_ quiet. But John wasn't going to be the first one to apologize. He never has been, and never will be. But if he knew anything about Bobby, it was that he'd give in eventually. And John was just waiting.

Then again, it might be better for Bobby to be mad at him when he leaves. Then he never has to forgive him, and he'll never have to miss him either. Because that was the inevitable finish to their friendship.

While John didn't want it to end like this, it was for the best. Once Bobby forgot about John, he could live a perfectly happy and fulfilling life with Rogue. And John could try to forget him, and likely end up back on the streets. Because John never got a happy ending.

"Alright, I've had enough." Rogue spoke up. "You two are going to talk to each other, and sort it out. Right now."

"I don't take orders from you, princess." John replied in a monotone voice. He wasn't moving from where he was, and he certainly wasn't budging on the fight either. "You can tell Bobby that if he wants to talk to me, he has to do it himself. Of his own free will."

"And you can tell John that I'm not speaking to him until he apologizes." Bobby scoffed, keeping his back to John. Rogue sighed heavily.

"John? Will you be the bigger person here and apologize?" She asked. Bobby furrowed his brows at her.

"Nnnnope. I feel no reason to apologize for something _he_ owes _me_ an apology for." John crossed his arms, leaning back against the chair.

"I don't even know what you want me to apologize for!" Bobby protested, swiveling his chair to face him.

"Well neither do I!" John threw up his hands in annoyance, also turning to face him. "What do you want me to say? 'I'm sorry that you're an entitled little-"

"WHOA there, John." Rogue cut him off. "Insults certainly won't help."

"No, no, let him finish." Bobby propped his chin up in his hand, leaning forward on his knee. "What were you going to call me?"

"An entitled little know-it-all who's convinced he can't possibly be wrong because he's apparently _so_ perfect!" John finished, snapping the cap of his lighter shut. "That's not my problem, it's his."

"Oh, well I'm sorry the only thing you consider a friend is that stupid lighter of yours! Pretty sad, if you ask me." Bobby taunted. _Oh, he wants to play this game? All right, it's on, ice-for-brains._

"Better than having a girlfriend you can't so much as hug without almost dying. Who's apparently been better company to you for the couple of weeks you've known her, than I have for the past _seven years_!" John snapped at him.

"Well at least she isn't the pyromaniac that set my house on fire." Bobby said. John narrowed his eyes.

"I knew you were upset about that. To think I thought you were actually concerned about me in the slightest." John scoffed. "I would've had to set it on fire if your bastard of a brother hadn't called the police on us."

"He was scared! Can you really blame him?" Bobby exclaimed.

"I don't know, I was scared during that whole fight, and you still blame me for freaking out." John shrugged. "I hadn't had a police confrontation in years. Of course I was going to freak out!"

"John, this has nothing to do with yesterday. This has to do with-"

"It has everything to do with yesterday! I was shot, you freaked out and started yelling at me, demanding to know why I didn't tell you, and I try to explain why, but even a small answer isn't good enough for you!" John exasperated.

"Nothing you were saying made any sense because I don't know what 'it' is!" Bobby protested. "Why can't you just give me a straight answer?"

"Because I-" John cut himself off before he said something stupid. "Because I can't."

"Because you can't what?" Bobby pressed. "Can't find the right words? Can't trust me? Can't what?!"

"I JUST-" John stopped, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. "I just, can't. Okay?"

"Because you don't have a valid reason." Bobby concluded. "You're just mad about the whole secret thing, yeah? Just because I wasn't ready to tell you?"

"Stop putting words in my mouth. If that's the answer you want, sure! Believe what you want to, but it's so much bigger than that." John told him firmly. "But you wouldn't find my reason valid in the slightest."

"You're just acting like a child, John. I hate arguing with you." Bobby sighed.

"Then drop it." John shrugged. "If you hate arguing with me, then just don't. You're the one who started the argument, so you could easily end it too. All I wanted was for you to know that I had a problem you couldn't fix. And if you did, you'd have to do it all on your own, or else it doesn't count as being sincere."

"I think you're just being really selfish right now." Bobby countered. John's jaw dropped in shock.

"Wow. Wow, okay." Now he was pissed off. "Well I'm sorry every time something good happens to me, it always has to be ruined somehow. I'm sorry I haven't had a single genuinely great thing happen to me once in my entire life. And once I thought I'd found it, guess what? It was ruined too. So yeah, maybe I am being a little bit selfish. But maybe you need to open your eyes a little wider, because there has to be something besides a brick of ice in that thick skull of yours."

Bobby didn't respond. Either he gave up, or was trying to prove a point by being silent. Rogue looked even more uncomfortable than she was previously, which made John feel ever so slightly better.

"I thought you two were best friends." She said after a moment. "All Bobby ever talked about was how amazing of a person John was. I wanted to get to know this wonderful person Bobby described, but he just didn't like me. And every time I see you two together, all you do is fight! What happened to you?"

John wanted so badly to say 'you happened', but he knew that was just give Bobby an idea of what was going on. He knew he'd take Rogue's side, and once again, John would be to blame. He was so tired of it by now.

Fed up, John snapped his lighter shut, rising to his feet. "That's it." He reached behind Rogue and pressed the button to lower the ramp, and grabbed his jacket, heading for the exit.

"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" Bobby demanded, quickly standing up to cut him off.

"I'm sick of this kids' table shit, I'm going in there." He replied, throwing the jacket over his shoulders.

"John, they told us to stay here." Rogue reminded him. He glared over his shoulder at her.

"You always do what you're told?" He taunted, beginning to walk down the ramp. Bobby caught his arm.

"How do you plan on finding them? You could get yourself killed." He told him seriously, looking him dead in the eyes.

John stared back. "I'm willing to take that risk. Anything's better than sitting here where I'm not wanted." Pulling out of his grip, he continued out of the plane, immediately heading in the direction of the dam.

He glanced over his shoulder just in case either of them followed. He was relieved to see they weren't coming. _Good._ He thought coldly to himself. _I don't need them; I never did. I was fine without Bobby for ten years, I'll be fine without him now._

In reality, he wasn't fine without Bobby, but he wasn't willing to admit that. Not now, not ever. Because as far as he was concerned, that was just lie he'd been telling himself. As long as he was alive, he was fine.

Always had been, always would be.

Treading through the snow, he really had no clue how to find them. It could be a maze in there. Maybe he didn't have to go inside. He could just hightail it outta there right then and there. No one would notice. No one would care.

As he got closer to the dam, he had a sudden feeling of dread, like he was no longer safe. _Well, that makes sense. I'm alone god-knows-where, no longer in the safety of the jet, and heading for a very dangerous place where I could easily get lost or killed._ He paused to think about that. _Hm, that sounds like the first half of my life. This can't be nearly as scary as any of that._

Just as he finished that thought, a loud high pitched sound vibrated in his skull out of nowhere. He nearly screamed in shock, falling to his knees in pain. Where was it coming from? What was it? It sounded like it was a noise coming from the inside of his brain. 

His head throbbed as he collapsed on his side, clutching his head in agony. What was happening?! The pain was so intense, he felt like he was dying. The next thought that came to mind was; _Is Bobby okay?! Did it reach him too?!_

_Wait, no, forget about Bobby! Worry about yourself!_ He scolded himself, sprawled on the ground, trying to keep his noises of pain to a minimum. Was it some kind of alarm? There were all kinds of technology in the world. Perhaps he'd tripped something.

Every part of him was screaming at him to get out of there, to do something, to make it stop. _Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!_ He was screaming internally, writhing on the ground.

And then suddenly, the noise stopped. It was so abrupt, John thought he'd just died for a second. Gripping the snow below him, the cold touch brought all his senses back. It was almost cold enough for him to expect Bobby to be there, checking to make sure he was okay.

But he wasn't. Slowly sitting up, he regained his breath, looking for some security device he could've unknowing activated. There was nothing of the sort in sight. How odd.

Just what was that? He considered going back to the jet to check on Bobby, to see if they'd experienced it too, then decided against it. He needed to stop thinking about Bobby, to stop getting concerned about his well-being, to stop thinking that he cared when he didn't.

He needed to get out of there, to leave it all behind. Getting back up, he brushed the snow off of him, and continued trudging towards the dam. If he was lucky, he might find Magneto and Mystique first. He doubted they were sticking around for long either.

They were the first people to recognize his talent outside the people at Xavier's school. But he didn't need to prove himself. They'd just known he was destined for greatness. 

Their mission was to lead mutants to victory in this ever-lasting battle against humans. And John was happy to assist them in any way he could. After all, that was his dream too. But they were actually getting the job done.

While Professor X wanted to coexist peacefully with them, Magneto wanted to erase them from the picture altogether. And John admired that. He was a man who could get the job done, unafraid to get his hands dirty. He was everything John strived to be.

He wouldn't get anywhere under the teachings of Xavier, or with distractions like Bobby. Wandering further, he began to walk through the trees, almost to the dam. Taking a path down a long slope, he spotted a hill ahead, along with the wall of the dam.

Coming to the edge of the woods, he heard the helicopter before he saw it. It wasn't yet off the ground, but it would be in a moment or so. Squinting at the windshield, he saw Magneto and Mystique inside, about to take off.

Until they noticed him. Mystique got out of her seat, and headed for the back. The door slid open, and she looked right at him. He stared back.

"Are you coming or not?" She shouted over the spinning blades. John hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. This was better than he could've hoped for. He hurried over to the helicopter, and Mystique offered him her hand.

Taking it, he pulled himself into the vehicle. She shut the door behind them. She then put an arm around his shoulders and smiled.

"Welcome to the Brotherhood, Pyro."

~

After Rogue landed the jet in front of the group of mutants on their way to escape, Bobby felt like he was going to throw up. She tightly gripped the steering, too shaken to let go.

They both flinched when Kurt suddenly poofed inside, sitting the professor in a seat. Once they lowered the ramp, the rest of them started to board the vessel. Bobby felt rather dizzy, staring out the window intently, praying his stomach would calm down before he puked.

It slowly calmed down as he took deep (and careful) breaths. He was waiting for John to make fun of him, then remembered he wasn't talking to him at the moment. He really owed John an apology.

After spending time thinking about it, he realized John was right. Bobby hadn't been the greatest friend as of late, and could stand to listen and pay more attention to John. His friendship was a blessing, not something he could just ignore because he had a girlfriend. He'd made too many mistakes, and John didn't deserve that.

Turning around, his eyes scanned the crowd for John. His blood ran cold when he didn't see him at first. Wolverine then boarded the plane with a smaller kid in his arms, but John still wasn't there.

Everyone was getting settled as Storm took the wheel from Rogue, starting up the plane to get out of there. Bobby looked over everyone in the plane just in case he'd accidentally overlooked John somehow.

"Alright, we're getting out of here." Storm sighed, the plane engines starting up loudly.

"W-wait, has anyone seen John?" Bobby asked immediately after. Everyone started looking to their left and right, realizing he was right. John wasn't there.

"Wasn't John supposed to be with you two?" Storm pointed out.

"Yes, but he left to go in after you guys." Rogue informed them. There was a long pause before Bobby started heading for the ramp. Wolverine stepped between him and the ramp, grabbing his shoulders.

"We have to get out of here." Wolverine told him, looking him seriously in the eyes. "We can't have you running to your death."

"What, we're just going to leave him?!" Bobby exclaimed, shoving Wolverine's arms off him. "No way! I'm going to find him!"

"There's no time!" Wolverine cut off his exit again. "Rogue needs you here. It's too late. Anyone inside that dam is dead."

"Don't you say that! He could still be alive; I have to find him!" Bobby protested. Wolverine hooked his arms under Bobby's arms, locking him in place to prevent him from running out into the snow. "Let go of me!"

"Bobby, please! Calm down!" Storm shouted back, closing the ramp. Bobby was beginning to hyperventilate.

"No! We can't leave him!" He screamed, struggling desperately against Wolverine's iron grip. "He's going to die!"

"Someone help me here!" Wolverine called, frost starting to coat his arms. Tears were beginning to sting Bobby's eyes, as he tried to get loose. He couldn't lose John now.

"He's with Magneto." Jean said out of nowhere. "He's still alive."

Bobby stopped struggling, shock practically slapping him in the face. His breathing was speeding up along with his heart rate. "He wouldn't... he didn't... this is all my fault." The moment Wolverine released him, he fell to his knees, the reality weighing heavily on his shoulders. "I shouldn't have let him go. I should've tried harder to convince him to stay. And now Magneto has him, and who knows what he'll do to him-" He cut off, hyperventilating.

The floor beneath him was beginning to freeze over, slowly spreading across the metal. Rogue knelt in front of him, her gloved hands on either side of his face.

"Hey, hey, look at me! It's not your fault, it'll all be okay, I promise." She assured him.

"But it _is_ my fault." He choked. "I didn't stop him, I just watched him go without lifting a finger! And now he's gone, and I could've stopped him! He's gone..." Rogue hugged him tightly, trying her best to comfort him. 

"Rogue, you might want to stop him before he freezes the whole plane!" Wolverine pointed out, taking a step away from the continuously spreading ice. She noticed her legs were beginning to freeze as well. Bobby was to freaked out to notice.

"I'm sorry Bobby. It's for the best." She whispered, taking off her glove and placing it on the back of his neck. The hyperventilating combined with this sudden draining feeling caused his throat to run dry, taking all his breath away from him.

The ice stopped spreading, but she didn't take her hand off. He was too weak to fight it, trying hard to breathe with no success. His consciousness was slipping away, pain registering through his entire body.

"I never told him I'm sorry." He croaked before his eyes shut, the darkness finally consuming him, locking him in a dreamless sleep.

Rogue put her glove back on the second he passed out, holding him as he slumped against her. Her own tears had started rolling down her cheeks. She was afraid of how he'd be when he woke up.

Everyone was looking at him in pity, Jean the most.

Jean then sighed. "I'm not sure what's worse. Letting him believe John is being tortured, or telling him that John went of his own free will to join their cause." Everyone's attention shifted to her. "I should've seen the signs sooner."

"So now they've got firepower on top of control over metal and the ultimate spy." Cyclops put together. "Wow. Not looking too great for us. Though I hate to admit it, John was one of the strongest students we had."

"And though he didn't let it on, one of the most clever." Jean added. "He wasn't very happy at the school though. He'd already been thinking about running away, but didn't want to leave Bobby's side. And now..."

"I feel like it's my fault." Rogue sighed. "I'm the reason Bobby and John's relationship has been so rocky as of late. And look where it led him."

"Well, it's also Bobby's fault." Jean told her. "He's so... protective of John, he thought he always knew what was best. And when he realized, it was already too late."

The group fell into silence. The past two days had been horrible. But losing John was the worst thing.

They all dreaded when Bobby woke up, and the mental impact this would have on him. Because if they knew anything, it was that Bobby was never going to be the same again.

With a heavy heart, Jean knew it was best to keep the truth from Bobby as long as they could. It would only tear him apart.

And they didn't need to lose Bobby too.


End file.
